


The Alleged Paradigm

by aliasmajik, Kiss Kiss (aliasmajik)



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, original court, post purge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliasmajik/pseuds/aliasmajik, https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliasmajik/pseuds/Kiss%20Kiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicole Deloncre knew that returning to Terreille was the right thing for her to do, she just never expected things to be quite so bad. </p><p>*An updated and reedited version of a story begun two years ago.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell Hath No Fury

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been edited for pacing and clarity from the original, posted at ff.net two years ago. There will be an index of characters that follows each chapter, containing the list of characters (of note) who appeared in that chapter.

**1.1**

Nicole was admitted to Sadi's public office without fuss. She was expected, after all. Prince Sadi had offered to visit her in her own home village, as was proper for a Warlord Prince speaking to a Queen, but she hadn't wanted that. Her home was in the midst of being packed and cleaned, and was not fit to entertain the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince of Dhemlan. Nicole had been to Sadiablo Hall a number of times in the past few years, but she recognized the changes from when this had been the home to Prince Sadiablo. It didn't much matter, though, Nicole mused. While much was changing, and had been changing, in Dhemlan, she would probably not return to Kaeleer for a very long time. She was barely more than an acquaintance to the Sadiablo family, though she had apprenticed in the Dark Court before it's formal foundation.

Nicole settled herself. Her escort had been offered a place to rest for a time while the Lady met with the Prince, and he'd taken it. After all, she was still (for a few more hours) a Province Queen. If she was not safe in the home of the Territory ruler, then it was all for nothing, wasn't it? She had not brought Adan, however. Her First Escort was overseeing things at the manor home they'd called home for years. He'd wanted to come with her, but she'd declined and chosen another. He needed some time alone, to consider everything. Her choice to return to Terreille had come as a shock to him. She knew that. She knew that he wasn't sure he wanted to go back with her. She suspected that duty and honor would win out (after all, it was all Adan really had left) but he needed time to come to that conclusion without her presence.

Nicole was startled out of her reverie when a loud crack and some yapping behind her crashed into her awareness. One ball of fur (Sceltie, she believed) had come barreling straight through the door, while something else had obviously crashed into the door on the outside. The Sceltie pup who had made its way inside spun around and faced the door, but when it realized that whatever had been pursuing it was no longer doing so, its furry mouth cracked open and a tongue lolled out. Nicole stood and walked the few feet to the door, turning the knob and opening the door. Another Sceltie pup was on the other side. It came barreling past her, and Nicole barely moved her legs in time to not be run over.

*CHEAT! CHEATER! You know I do not pass through objects yet!* Nicole laughed, delighted, when the male puppy's voice spilled over her mind. She had missed being around the kindred like this. Her two month apprenticeship had fostered a love of them for her. But her delight was quickly replaced by shock as the male puppy bolted straight for his sister (at least, Nicole assumed they were from the same litter) and knocked her down with all his puppy force. Nicole gasped and darted forward, trying to break the scuffle up. She dove in with both hands, only managed to get nipped in the process. She yelped, and pulled back. The noise seemed to startle the pups.

*You bit a Queen! You are bad!* the girl pup bellowed. Nicole winced from the volume of it, if nothing else. She looked down at her hand, though, and realized that she was fine. No blood had been drawn. But the pups were studying her with a surprising amount of attention.

*Queen is hurt?* the male pup asked. He padded forward and leaned over to sniff her hand. She ran a hand down his back and delighted at his soft fur. He hopped up into her lap, encouraged by her attention. Not to be outdone, his sister approached, too, and clamored into her lap. Nicole laughed as they jostled one another for room, and settled in. And that was how the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan found her. She couldn't move, with two bundles of now exhausted fur using her for a pillow, so she was sitting on his study floor when he found her. And he tried not to chuckle. She blushed, somewhat embarrassed.

If Daemon Sadi found the situation embarrassing or amusing, he managed to hide it well enough. "I didn't want to wake them." she murmured as the Prince took first one, then the other, of the pups and set them on the couch. They shifted around a bit, but didn't wake up, for which Nicole was grateful.

"I can understand the sentiment, Lady. I've considered renaming them Hell and Fury after some of their rampages around the Hall." he remarked. She glanced at them, so harmless now that they were asleep, and only just noticed the Jewels hanging from what appeared to be simply nicely made collars. The female wore a Rose, and the male a Summer sky. Their psychic scents had seem jumbled when they were tossing about, but they were a Healer and a Warlord. And still quite young. She turned to look at the Prince.

"I imagine they're not always that wound up." she said quite diplomatically.

"Actually it's gotten worse since the litter has begun to go their own ways. The Queen of Halaway has one, and two of the others found homes, but these two have not as of yet. I was considering sending them back to Scelt, but..." he seemed to realize he was being overly familiar with a Queen he barely knew, and trailed off. She liked him better for the insight into his thoughts; she had rarely interacted with Prince SaDiablo's son and heir since he'd come into power, but the stories they told had painted him in a very different light than she saw him in now. 

Nicole smiled, as if to cover that slip up. "I understand." she replied. "Unfortunately I didn't come to discuss the kindred with you, as enjoyable as that is."

"I imagine not, Lady Deloncre. What can I do for you?" he settled into the chair easily enough, and Nicole smiled softly. Most were uncomfortable around this Prince, but Nicole found him enjoyable enough to deal with on a professional level. She'd been too young, and too sheltered, when she still lived in Terreille to know much about the man they'd call the Sadist. Knowing Prince Sadi the way she did, as a fairly young man learning the ropes in a completely new Realm, she often wondered if those rumors were blown out of proportion.

"I've come to resign formally as Queen of Tyre Province." she said. He looked startled. She'd only been the Province Queen for seven years, which was a short time for the long lived. She was young, and in good health. It would be surprising for her to resign and so suddenly. She found his scrutiny somewhat off putting, but instead of delving into personal interest, the two quickly hashed out a replacement for her (a young Queen who had apprenticed in Nicole's Court and had recently set up her own-Miranda was still young and untried, but both Nicole and Prince Sadi saw promise and capability in her). That settled, and all the paperwork signed and set aside, the Prince studied Nicole and considered her.

"May I ask why?" he asked. She inclined her head.

"I've decided to return to Terreille." she replied. He looked startled and for some reason, she felt strangely vindicated to have been able to startle the Warlord Prince. She'd expected his response, though. Who would ever choose to return there, after all? It was a desperate, broken place."I believe that there is a great deal of good I can do there, and I would like the opportunity to try." she added. She wasn't asking permission. His authority over her ended with her resignation. Nicole had no male relatives in Kaeleer, and her Court had already been dealt with.

"There is nothing I could do to convince you otherwise, I'm sure." Prince Sadi replied. There was a strange mix of emotions, not on his face but lingering in his psychic scent. She wondered what he was thinking about. Or who. "When do you intend to leave?"

"Within the week." she replied. "I've already sold the manor I've lived in since I came to Kaeleer, and now it's merely a matter of seeing that all of my things are packed and prepared for the move." she explained. He looked at her, though, and his gaze was strangely piercing. She squirmed, uncomfortable with the intensity of it, and found herself avoiding his gaze. When she realized what she was doing, though, she turned to look right at him.

His gold eyes were sharp and searching. "Have you dissolved the Court?"

She nodded once. "I have."

She had known it was the only prudent thing to do. She would need to reform one once she arrived in Terreille, but the Kaeleer males in her service couldn't be expected to drop everything they had here to follow her. That thought shifted as she realized that the room was cooling, and the Prince sitting across from her was studying her with a very sharp gaze. His eyes glazed, and Nicole felt her breath quicken. Her Green was no match for the Black, and suddenly she felt like the Prince was eying her as prey. She wasn't sure what she'd done, but she regretted not bringing Adan. Her First Escort would have insisted upon being in the room with her, and she would have had his strength to lean on. The Red was also no match for the Black, but there was a lot to be said for the comfort of having him there. Because she did not, she straightened her spine and met the Prince's gaze, pace for pace.

"Prince, I would not require any Kaeleer male to come to Terreille with me. A few have decided to come... my Steward, and a guard who I have made my Master of the Guard... but my males have families here... and Terreille is no place for families." she added, hoping to bring him back to this polite discussion, hoping to sop the temper of a Warlord Prince. He was not hers, and vice versa, but sometimes Warlord Princes were difficult creatures to deal with even without the sort of bond that was so intense between Warlord Prince and Queen.

"And Prince Adan?" he asked finally. Nicole kept the wince off of her face, but not her heart. She wasn't sure that she wanted him to come, but she couldn't tell the Prince that. He wouldn't understand. Adan had begun to find peace here. He was the only male in her service that had come from Terreille with her. He had protected her since she was a child... and he deserved the peace. "You will take him if he wishes to go with you." It wasn't a question. It was an order. She bristled automatically at being ordered to do anything, especially by a male who did not serve her. But then she remembered that she, in truth, served him. Or had.

"He's happy here." she replied, sullen.

"No, Lady Deloncre, he's not." The Prince replied. Nicole avoided his eyes this time, wringing her hands in her lap. She knew it was true. Adan never seemed happy. He never had. She wasn't even sure what would make him happy. He had always seemed sad, for as long as she'd known him. She remembered even when her parents had been living... Adan had been a protege of her father's, but with the threat of Dorothea hanging over everyone's heads and Dhemlan in a precarious position. She squirmed. She'd never asked the High Lord why he'd abandoned Dhemlan in Terreille, as she'd thought it was none of her business. And it hadn't been, but now that she was returning, she imagined it was. But the High Lord wasn't here, his son was. Nicole raised her eyes.

"Why did the High Lord withdraw from Dhemlan in Terreille? He had the strength to hold it, but he left nearly 1700 years ago." Leaving the inhabitants to the dogs, so to speak. They'd survived a few more centuries without his protection, but not long before Dhemlan, too, was a Province to Hayll. Sadi looked at her and she regretted asking. Something in those glazed gold eyes was haunting. But he didn't answer her. She looked away first, and rose. "I'm sorry. It was impolite to ask. I'll see myself out, Prince Sadi."

"Lady Nicole," he said too softly. The rich, sultry tone of his voice made her shiver, and she hated that it did. "Ask him yourself, if you ever have the chance." She fled his study.

She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, so it wasn't particularly surprising that she ran into someone. She felt deceptively strong hands settle on her shoulders and she already had an apology on her lips when she realized who it was. Jaenelle. Her Queen. Nicole chewed her lip, and heaved a sigh.

"Nicole?" The tone was that of Jaenelle, not Witch, not the Queen that even now could rule all of Kaeleer if she but crooked her finger. Nicole straightened and brushed herself off. Jaenelle looked past her to the study just around the corner and her lips quirked. "Ah, been to see Daemon. Is he being bossy again?" Nicole blinked, but the sentiment was kind of charming. Nicole had attended the wedding of Sadi and Jaenelle two years ago. It was clear even then that the two were deeply in love, the sort of feeling that storybooks should be written about. 

"Or something." Nicole finally murmured. "I resigned." she said softly. Jaenelle wasn't surprised. Nicole had confided her plans in Jaenelle months ago. "I'm leaving. I'm going back." She breathed.

"Don't worry. It won't be easy, but it's where you're meant to be." Jaenelle smiled and patted the slender Queen's faces. "Good luck, Sister. You'll need it."

Nicole opened her mouth to ask, but Jaenelle was already walking away. Need it? That didn't bode well for anything. 

**1.2**

Almost a week passed, and Nicole was getting frustrated. She'd expected to be prepared sooner, but it seemed a million things must be considered before she moved on. So different than her flight from Terreille, in the dark and desperate night.

All told, four males from her Court were coming with her to Terreille.

Vincent had been her Steward from the beginning. He was middle aged and steady, from a wealthy merchant family based in Armdarh, Dhemlan's capital city. He was a Purple Dusk Jeweled Prince, but he commanded authority as the Steward effortlessly, and Nicole had faith he would continue in the same vein. Nicole wasn't sure why he'd decided to come, but she suspected it had something to do with the breakup he'd suffered some months ago.

Sebastien had been promoted to her Master of the Guard when the last resigned. He was fairly young, but still older than Nicole herself. He had trained under some of the best arms masters in Kaeleer, and even had the pleasure of being shown a few things by Lucivar Yaslana some years ago (he'd been standing as Nicole's guard when she had her internship years ago). He wore a Sapphire Jewel, and was a Warlord Prince. She knew he would be invaluable in the months ahead; he had been one of her first Court members years ago, and he was a dear friend.

Rene had been a Third Circle escort, but his desire to join her in Terreille had earned him First Circle status. His Summer sky Jewels were not particularly impressive in Kaeleer, Nicole suspected that Terreille would be different. Besides, he was just young enough and just enthusiastic enough to perhaps make a difference. Nicole was concerned about him, but no more so than the others; she wondered if she wouldn't have to send him home after a few months.

Adan was the fourth… stable, dependable… stupid… Adan.

"There is a messenger from Prince Sadi, Lady." Startled, Nicole looked up from where she had been studying a manifesto of their luggage. The young witch who had spoken was leading a middle aged man by a few paces. The man seemed normal enough, especially for a formal courier, and he wore a mark of service to the local post house. What startled her more was the two bundles of fur padding after the man. He looked uncomfortable, as well, a sure sign that today was going to get interesting. Nicole wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"Lady Deloncre." the messenger bowed, and then straightened. He handed her a letter sealed in an envelope with the Sadiablo seal pressed into the back. She looked at it, and then at the puppies. The same two that she had met at the Hall not a week earlier.

*Queen! Queen is unhurt!* the boy pup exclaimed. The girl pup bounded past him and only stopped a few paces from Nicole. Nicole looked from them to the letter, and barely remembered to thank the messenger before she cracked the seal. She read it. She read it again. And she looked at the pups.

"Mother Night." she murmured. Adan approached from the side, took one look at her face, and plucked the letter out of her hand. He read it twice, too, before studying the bundles of fur with strange intensity.

"May the Darkness be Merciful... Hell and Fury?"

"It's the Prince's idea of a joke." she replied, raising a hand to rub at her temples. She was already getting a headache. Adan didn't understand, but said nothing. He merely rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand, as if trying to wipe off the smirk he probably thought she didn't notice. Damn him.

**1.3**

They passed through the Gate four days later. Nicole was flanked by her four males, with the Sceltie pups at her heels, and she kept her eyes held high. They had been allowed use of the Gate near Sadiablo Hall, and they entered Dhemlan in Terreille near the ruins. Having seen the building in its glory, Nicole couldn't help but think that even the massive field of ruins couldn't do the Hall justice. She was still studying those ruins when Adan approached at her elbow, touching it gently to get her attention. She turned to face the man who had been protector and friend for longer than any other, and tried not to wince at the haunted lines on his face.

"I've sent Sebastien ahead to the city. He'll arrange for rooms for the night. In the morning we can begin inquiries to buy a home." he explained. She nodded. She hoped to acquire what had once been her family home, but knew that was probably not a strong possibility. The manor home near the capital had been lost to her family even before her parents were killed.

"Make inquiries after Cosette and Blythe... if you please." She spoke of her sister and cousin, left behind in their flight from Dhemlan years ago. She still felt guilty that the two had been left in Dhemlan, but again and again Adan had told her that his orders had been to protect her because she was a Queen.

"Nicole..." Adan trailed off. She met his uncertain gaze pace for pace, steady and sure. She needed to know. They were both probably dead. Nicole was not a fool. She understood what had happened in Dhemlan while she was gone. But she still needed to know, if that was a possibility. "Yes, Lady." Adan finally said. She nodded again, turning away from him.

Terreille... it was where she'd been born, nearly 1300 years ago. It was where her earliest memories had been formed. Her mother, father, uncle, sister, cousin... family. Flashes in her memory. Blurry faces.

When Sebastien returned, he led them all to the city, to an inn in the wealthy part of town. Nicole felt ill as she walked the streets. She felt the hungry looks of all who they passed. She felt the acidy fear, welling all around her. Her hand sought Adan's arm, and she clung to it. She felt all awash.

She remembered being a little girl, staring into that chocolate shop with her younger sister. She remembered walking that garden (once, it had been a garden, at least) with her mother. She remembered the lights that would twinkle like stars, entrancing her and her cousin.

The city was run down and dingy, now. The people were frightened and skittish, like mice. She kept her eyes forward, resisting the urge to look around. She couldn't do anything, not now. She needed to settle herself and her men before she could figure out exactly how she planned to help Dhemlan, and by extent, Terreille.

"Prince Vincent... at your first convenience, please arrange a meeting with the Territory Queen." It was only polite. She was a dark Jeweled Queen newly come into the Territory. Before she set up her Court and set about doing anything, she needed to present herself to the Queen. Vincent glanced at her, and then nodded. She knew he'd probably see to it this afternoon.

He looked as ill as the land felt, and she felt a stab of pity. None of the Kaeleer males understood what it was going to be like here. They'd all heard stories, but none of them had lived here. She and Adan hadn't since it had gotten truly horrible. But they would survive... together. She had faith of that.


	2. Fear of Drowning

**2.1**

"What do you mean there's no Territory Queen?" Nicole was stunned. It had been almost three years since Jaenelle had purged the Blood. Why had no Queen stepped up to rule?

"The impression I had, Lady, was that there is no Queen of age or strength to rule the whole Territory." Vincent replied cautiously.

The five of them were gathered in the small sitting area in the suite of rooms they'd rented at the inn to hear Vincent's news. He'd returned just before dinner to tell her that her plans had been derailed somewhat. She'd expected to meet a Queen in the morning. It seemed there was no Queen, which was absurd. Perhaps it was a side effect of her time in Kaeleer, but she couldn't imagine how a land could function without a Queen in power.

Things were worse than she'd realized if there was no Queen in all of Dhemlan trusted enough to rule.

Nicole wandered to the window, staring out onto the street. She had no idea what to do. She was reminded, abruptly, that she really was very young. She glanced over her shoulder at her men. "This doesn't change much..." she insisted, though she hardly believed it. "We still need to focus on finding a place to live." Unlike her last, some place large enough to house herself and a Court. Though these men were unofficial members until she formed a new Court, they had all freely chosen to follow her to Terreille. It was her duty to protect them as best she could. Like any other Queen, she was fierce in the defense of those that were hers. She felt the point driven home that this place was not safe.

*Queen is unhappy. Walkies will make it better!* Nicole wasn't sure which of the puppies had spoken (Hell, Fury, or whatever; they truly needed new names) but she knew it was the male. She looked down at the pups, tails wagging, and sighed. A glance at her men reminded her that she really needed to teach them how to communicate with kindred. None of them had heard that suggestion, obviously.

"The pups and I are going to go for a walk." she announced. By the way her men tensed, she knew she was going to be in for a fight. They, too, had noticed how tense the city was. Nicole doubted anyone would cross her personally, but she also wasn't stupid enough to not take an escort. "Adan, I'd appreciate it if you'd see to that matter we discussed earlier. I'll take Sebastien with me this time." she decided as she swept past them. Adan didn't respond, for which she was grateful, and somehow Sebastien managed to gather his own wits about him fast enough to be hot on her heels as the left the suite. As Nicole started down the stairs, she heard one of the pups whining and turned to study both of them, standing at the top of the stairs. She smiled softly. She'd forgotten they weren't so good at going down stairs yet, especially narrow ones. She lifted one, the male, and nodded to Sebastien, who lifted the girl pup. They carried the two down the stairs and didn't put them back down until they had all stepped outside.

It was autumn. The early evening air was cooler than she'd thought it would be, and she called in a light cloak to stave off the chill. Sebastien smiled gently, and she was sure he had been biting his tongue on that suggestion. But she saw the tension around his mouth and eyes, and in the hand he extended to her. A formal gesture, but she knew it had as much to do with needing to be near her physically as the formality of the gesture. She conceded, watching the pups scamper around their feet as they walked the side streets of the city. His tension was palatable, but she managed to look past it as she studied the faces of people they passed. They were in a merchant sector, so she'd expected the people to be middle class. But shops were worn down and the people were wearing clothes that had seen better days. Even if she could look past that, the emotions... the fear, the desperation... it made the very air nearly unbreathable.

She was choking.

Distantly, she was aware of Sebastien's grip on her arm tightening.

She thought of Kaeleer. Armdarh was a larger city than this one, and more vibrant. At this time of night, the shops would just be closing up, and the theaters and restaurants would be opening up for the evening rush. She might stroll into a cafe and settle in for a meal with a book, and that sort of subtle command was that the Lady was there to be a witch, not a Queen. Here she could hardly walk down the street without feeling the needy weight of those hungry eyes staring after her. The land was dried up and desperate; she felt that need just as keenly. She was already light headed.

"Prince, you're running late, aren't you? The meeting is starting soon!"Nicole felt Sebastian tense at being directly addressed, especially in Nicole's presence. The Warlord who'd spoken up shrunk under the Warlord Prince's stare, and Nicole tightened her fingers around his. He relented somewhat. 

"What meeting is that, Warlord?" she asked softly. He looked aghast that she'd addressed him, as if he'd somehow missed her when he'd spoken up initially. She was a petite, harmless looking little thing, but he couldn't miss the strange hardness in her cool gold eyes. 

**2.2**

Adan had not missed Terreille. He walked the streets he remembered from his youth and adulthood, but not with wistful memories. He had never been happier than when he'd escaped with Nicole to Kaeleer. Too many sour memories from this place, and now it seemed like a place that could never stand on its own feet again. He hated to think it, but he knew that Nicole was setting herself up for failure.

Still, he'd sworn to her father that he'd protect her, even from herself.

"Oi, Prince!"

Adan tensed but ignored the call. He had no reason to speak with anyone who may or may not have recognized him. He had left relations in Terreille many years ago, but he doubted any of them lived. If they'd survived the Purge, he'd be shocked, he thought bitterly, but quickly relented. His mother had been a mercenary bitch, but his sister had merely played the hand dealt to her and his younger brother... Casmiro had been thrust into Court games as a child. Neither of his younger siblings had done more than they had been expected.

He closed his eyes on memories of them.

"Prince!"

Adan paused, realizing that ignoring the voice wouldn't work. He didn't turn, but the man who hailed him, a Warlord, came into his vision. He was middle aged, and had obviously worked hard all his life.

"Prince, you're going the wrong way. The meeting is in the town hall, just up the road." he gestured back down the cobblestone road, towards the square. Adan furrowed his brow.

"Meeting?" he asked.

The Warlord frowned. "You are going, aren't you? I heard it was a call to all the Warlord Princes who wear the Summer sky or darker." The Warlord shifted, uncomfortable, as he gestured at Adan's Red pendant. Adan's brow furrowed.

"Where is this meeting, again?"

**2.3**

No one who had come to the meeting wanted to say it, but Xavier knew that Dhemlan was in trouble. Once, they had been ruled by a Black Jeweled Warlord Prince, but the bastard had turned his back on them long ago. They'd been sacrificed to Hayll's tender mercies, and it had been hard enough for any of the men here to swallow that rule. Only because Hayll's influence had lasted a relatively short time had any of them survived, Xavier knew.

Xavier looked around the table and closed weary eyes. It had been three years since the witch storm that had shaken Terreille to her core. Most were blaming Kaeleer armies for the damage, but Xavier didn't remember seeing any armies with the power to pull this off. He didn't think any armies had crossed into Terreille at all. But that didn't explain what had happened.

It had been threeyears. Three years since the death of the High Priestess of Hayll, may her spirit find nothing but pain and lots of it in the Dark Realm. Terreille was reeling. Many Territories now faced landen uprisings. Dhemlan was fortunately spared that, but she was in no better position. The populace had been decimated just as much as anywhere else, and the fighting hadn't quite ended yet, despite the best efforts of these men.

He looked around the table at every Warlord Prince in Dhemlan who still wore Jewels darker than the Summer sky. At least… every one that had dared leave their cities and families, their villages and people. Far too few. They shouldn't have all been able to fit into this room.

"We need to figure out some course of action. Our people are destroying themselves, now!" someone spoke up, Xavier wasn't sure who. He forced himself to focus, though, despite his own fatigue.

"Dhemlan is without a ruling power. The figurehead of the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan has been a façade we once hid behind, but it's not an option anymore. It's painfully obvious that the Warlord Prince turned his back on us long before Hayll invaded." Xavier replied. "Sadiablo Hall has lain in ruins for the length of most of our lives."

Murmurs crawled the length of the room. Bitter ones, mostly. "Why should we pretend we even have that façade? We should appoint a Queen to rule."

Xavier wasn't old enough to remember the rule of the Warlord Prince clearly, but he found himself agreeing. Men weren't meant to rule. He rubbed his eyes and nodded lightly. He wasn't alone.

"But who? We have so few of age or power to rule…" A Purple Dusk Jeweled Warlord Prince from the border murmured.

"My village boasts one, but she's only a little girl, and light Jeweled." It illustrated the problem well enough. As it stood, the Queens who came from educated families had been "fostered" by Dorothea as a "gesture of goodwill". They were either dead long before the witch storm, or dead from it. The more rustic Queens were lighter Jeweled, generally, and Xavier would bet his own Sapphire Jewel that no light Jeweled Queen would be accepted. Not with the people clamoring for leadership and strength.

"What are our options?" he asked. He was the leader of this little gathering, he'd found. He was the darkest Jeweled Warlord Prince left in Dhemlan.

"There is Colette, from Vivaine Province. Opal Jewels." a Summer sky Jeweled Warlord Prince spoke up. He sounded reluctant, and Xavier realized that the man in question came from the same area.

"She has been damaged. I doubt she would accept the nomination, even if she had the strength to rule." Another male admitted reluctantly. The two men locked eyes, and looked away, saddened. Xavier felt for them both; they had obviously trained to serve this Queen before she was "damaged", no doubt by the machinations of the Sadiablo bitches.

"Victoire, from the capital." another spoke up, but was quickly countered.

"She only wears the Tiger eye! We need more strength than that!"

Arguments were threatening to break out, and Xavier knew it could only end in blood. He opened his mouth to speak when someone else beat him to it. Xavier didn't know the man on sight, but he respected the man's obvious air of calm.

"There is one…" he was speaking reluctantly. Xavier wondered why. "She has been hidden… most no doubt think she is dead."

"Who?" he was challenged.

Xavier wondered himself. "Speak, friend. None in this room seeks to see her hurt, I can assure you." He hoped it was true.

"Nicole Deloncre."

Shouting, whispers, and disbelief. Xavier rocked, unsure of the man's words. Nicole could have been anyone, but the Deloncre name had been well respected in Dhemlan for centuries. And Xavier would have sworn the line had been wiped out years ago.

"She lives?"

"Is she more than a child? I remember her when she was young…"

"What Jewels does she wear?"

The man held up a hand. "She is no child… she wears the Green."

"State your name, Prince." Xavier demanded. He was tired of games. The claim of a Green Jeweled Queen was enough… he wanted names.

"I am Adan Alvero." the Prince spoke up, and a cry went out at the surname. The name Alvero was as infamous as any in Dhemlan.

But a hush came over the crowd as someone stepped forward. A slender figure, and obviously not a Warlord Prince. Xavier could tell that much. The way the man turned, startled into caution and suddenly tense… Xavier knew.

"Lady Nicole… I admit I am surprised to see you here." Xavier spoke up. The Warlord Prince, Alvero, who was obviously the Lady's escort tensed, stepping to her side, but the figure raised both hands and threw back the hood of the cloak. She was a handsome young woman, with the gold eyes and light brown skin characteristic of their race.

"I apologize for intruding, Prince." she turned to take the gathered into her apology. "I came to inform the Warlord Princes of something… if it please you?" she asked. Of course no one would deny her. Too many hungry looks around that table, Xavier realized. He wondered if Lady Nicole realized how many of the males were a danger.. And how close to violence this room really was.

"Go on." Xavier managed through gritted teeth. How could he leash the men here when his own instincts were screaming at him?

Nicole inclined her head, polite, but went on. "Many years ago I was secreted away to Kaeleer, at my father's wish." she began. "Augustin Deloncre is a name that was once well known in Dhemlan, and I am his daughter. I intend to revive my father's legacy, and restore Dhemlan to much of her former glory. I have returned for this reason, because Dhemlan is my home, and because she needs what strength I may offer now." She stepped away from her escort, and Xavier would have winced at the sudden motion if he wasn't trying to hold his breath. She was a careless creature, it seemed. She stepped up onto the dais he'd been using to get a little height in the room and smiled lightly at him.

"I cannot do this alone." she finished, almost quiet compared to the fervor of a moment before. Xavier felt the room shift. The violence shaped into something else... and Xavier knew that this young Queen wasn't as careless as he'd thought. She knew the intensity baring into her, and she'd refocused it onto what she was saying. She had essentially redirected all of that raw energy by asking the men to serve, albeit not formally.

He wondered if she realized that she was a genius.

"Prince, if I may propose something to the council?" she asked, turning to him. The obvious care in her eyes stabbed him, sinking deep hooks into him. Xavier couldn't have said why, but he wanted to reach out to her, grasp her, wrap his arms around her. Instead, he inclined his head, every motion carefully orchestrated. She turned to face the room, taking every one in.

"I currently have no formal Court." she said. "I had intended to sink more slowly into life in Dhemlan, but it appears I do not have that option." She clasped her hands behind her back, straightening as she scanned the room. She had obviously been trained to speak to crowds. "Make no mistake. This is not a bid to become Territory Queen; I have been gone too long to accept that burden readily. But I require a strong Court to begin doing my part to heal the land."

They didn't cheer. The men stood with baited breath. Quiet. Silent. The only movement in the whole room were several males gathered towards the back, ones that Xavier did not recognize. Only one of them was even a Warlord Prince. But with the way they looked at the Lady, he realized that they were with her.

"I ask that any interested males present themselves to me in one week's time. I will make the location known to Prince..." she glanced at him.

"Xavier."

"Prince Xavier, for any interested parties." She inclined her own head gently. "I thank the collected for their time." She descended from the dias and her own males, the four of them, closed ranks around her as she left the room. Xavier was stunned. He didn't entirely understand what had just happened.

"Lady Nicole Deloncre..." he murmured, tasting the name. She may not wish to be Territory Queen... but he would bet that before winter broke, she would be named thus.

It was no surprise to Xavier that the council was unable to choose an alternative before they disbanded for the day.


	3. Let the Flames Begin

**3.1**

Vincent was the one who found the manor, eventually. It was available for lease or purchase, he informed her. He thought it was large enough to suit their purposes, but he wanted her opinion, of course. So on the fifth morning they were in Terreille, the whole lot of them took a carriage a few miles outside of the capital to visit the manor in question. The drive off of the road was long enough and hidden by lines of trees, so Nicole didn't catch a glimpse of the main house until they rounded the last bend. And when she did see it, she blinked. It was larger than she'd expected.

They could easily house a Court, as well as families, in that. When the carriage drew to a stop outside of the manor, Sebastien jumped down from the driver's seat to open the door. Adan descended first, turning to help Nicole from the carriage. She ignored all of this formality, however, stunned by the manor she was looking at.

It was larger than the home she'd grown up in. The main house itself was a massive structure, beautiful in design, and the grounds obviously continued onward for some ways as no roads lined the land around it. She'd originally expected to purchase a large home just outside of the city. This was more than she'd expected, and yet...

Her men never strayed overmuch from her side, but they all stepped into the reception hall, gazes searching. Vincent had visited the grounds on her behalf, but this was the first even he was seeing of the indoors. The decor inside was muted, though tasteful. Little in the way of furniture remained, no doubt after the riots of the last few years, but the house was in surprisingly good condition.

Nicole ran fingers along the rich cherry wood walls and looked at the dust. They would need a whole team of housekeepers to set things to rights, but she wasn't concerned about that. She had a great deal of her family's money left. Her father had begun to siphon marks off into Kaeleer bank accounts at the first hint of trouble in Dhemlan, when she hadn't even been born yet. So when she'd traveled to Kaeleer, she'd had money, and a savvy investor to help her manage it.

"What do you think?"

It was Adan who asked. She turned to him, smile firmly in place. She was taken with the place. She could imagine a Court here. She could imagine... perhaps... a family here. One day.

"I like it." she replied. Too simple a statement for what felt like more. Her face brightened and she looked away from him. Yes, this would do nicely.

**3.2**

They had barely arrived in Terreille when Nicole met Liliane. The witch applied to work at the estate Nicole had purchased, with a comment that she had worked there some years ago. Nicole wasn't reviewing the applicants herself. She had not appointed a housekeeper, but her Steward was taking care of that search. But Vincent brought Liliane's to Nicole's attention.

"She has years of service... but something about the application seems off." It was the only explanation he'd given to her when he'd left the woman's file on her desk.

She'd been too busy to get to it right away, but the next afternoon she found her way to it. Flipping the file open, Nicole gave it a glance. Years of service. How old was this witch? She claimed to have served at the Deloncre family estate... when Nicole was a child. That wasn't impossible, of course, her parents had employed a number of servants, and as a child she had not known all of them. But she had known all of her mother and aunt's lady maids because they'd had unlimited access to the family wing of the home and with times as dangerous as they were, no one had wanted anyone around the children they didn't entirely trust. Her younger sister, herself, and their cousin Blythe had been introduced to all of the footman and maids as a precaution, and instructed never to go with anyone they did not recognize. Which meant she'd known all the lady maids... and she did not recognize the name Liliane D'Aubigne. Then who was this witch?

The walk to the Steward's office was short enough that Nicole was still pensive when she arrived.

Vincent was seated at his desk, going over something, when she entered after a polite knock. She didn't let him speak first. "I would like to meet with Lady Liliane... arrange it, please?"

"Yes, Lady."

**3.3**

Liliane arrived at the Lady's home without incident, and for that she was thankful. She was dressed modestly, but in her best dress. Times were tight, of that she was sure; even those in service found the marks hard to come by of late. With Dhemlan's troubles, so few of the fine aristo estates had full staff, or even half the staff it would take for them to run smoothly. Liliane and her kind had trouble finding work. It had been too long between jobs.

Liliane was admitted to the front hall of the Lady's home when she showed her letter. She had been invited to interview, which was a fine thing. She had too few copper marks to tide her over... and she had more than herself to think about.

"Lady Liliane, welcome to Galloway," the man who had admitted her did so with a fond smile, and she curtsied politely. It seemed the home was understaffed, but she knew it was only newly occupied once more. They were, obviously, busy hiring. "I am Rene, one of the Lady's First Circle. If you'll follow me?"

Liliane felt her heart leap up into her throat. She hadn't realized that it had been a member of the Lady's First Circle! She sank into another, deeper, curtsy, which seemed to make the young man uncomfortable. He flushed, and stammered something under his breath. "I am sorry, Prince, I didn't realize..." she cut herself off, knowing she would only make it worse.

He shook his head, raising a hand. "No, no. Don't. Please. Just... come with me."

He showed her to a sitting room, where he left her. She felt horrible. He had looked so uncomfortable, but she couldn't imagine why.

She waited, patient and still, for someone to enter. She assumed it would be the Steward. Under normal circumstances, hiring would be taken care of by the head housekeeper and butler, but she suspected this home had neither as of yet. She had, after all, been admitted by a member of the First Circle. And the letter that had asked her here had been from a Prince Vincent, Steward.

Who entered, finally, stunned her into another deep curtsy. A woman. A beautiful woman with soft gold eyes and a remarkable resemblance to the Lady Deloncre... one deceased many years ago. So it was true. This was Nicole Deloncre, it could be no other. She looked so much like her mother.

"Miss D'Aubigne, I presume?" the voice was soft and young, but firm.

"Yes, my Lady." she breathed. And it was true. "Thank you for granting me an interview... I had no idea I would meet you personally today." she was slightly stammering.

Nicole frowned and motioned to a chair. "Please, be seated. Your credentials are impressive, but I must admit, you look hardly older than myself." she said, without preamble. Few aristos had an inclination to dance around any subject with a servant, after all. "Your resume indicates that you were in service at my family home years ago, before it was dissolved." she spoke plainly, but Liliane could see the flicker of pain behind those eyes, and the hesitation in her voice.

But she flushed. "That is not... entirely true, madam. I was there, yes, but not in formal service to the house. My mother was lady maid to your aunt, the Lady Georgia Ametrine." she explained.

Nicole seemed to consider that, then nodded. "That would make sense. Was her name Marie?" she seemed trying hard to remember, and Liliane nodded an ascent.

"It was, Lady."

Nicole nodded. "Simple enough. That settled, I suppose all else is in order. You're hired, Miss Liliane." she smiled softly, and Liliane felt a spike of hope. "You may move into the estate at your earliest convenience, but I expect you to be ready to begin work by week's end. There is a great deal to do. My Steward will meet with you tomorrow to discuss your duties..."

But Liliane's heart sank. "Move in here? That is such short notice..."

Nicole frowned. "The ad indicate it would be a live in position." she said plainly.

Liliane nodded. "I know, merely... Lady, I have... arrangements to make before I could possibly move in."

Nicole's eyes narrowed, and Liliane felt the room chill somewhat. "What sorts of arrangements?" she asked, and though her tone was even, the room felt dangerous. Liliane chose her words cautiously.

"I have a young son."

Nicole brightened. "Well that is no problem. We will make sure your quarters are large enough to accommodate your son. How old is he?"

"Noah is three, madam." she replied, feeling a weight lifting, slowly. Nicole smiled fondly.

"I look forward to meeting your son, Miss Liliane."

**3.4**

Adan spent more time away from the estate that he would like, but Nicole was acting strangely around him, and it was somehow easier to walk the streets than sit across from her at meals without her looking at him even once. Until he brought her news of her cousin or her sister, he suspected she would continue to lock him out. It was his only hope.

He loved her. How he loved her, it was hard to describe. She was too old to be his daughter, but too old to be a sister. It was deep, passionate love, but somewhat different than that he expected one might find with a lover. He had not had a lover in a very long time, and even then it was somewhat less than he had hoped for.

More than anything, it hurt to see her doting on Vincent, on Sebatien, on Rene, but sparing him hardly a glance. He had known her longer than any of those males. He was hardly territorial when it came to their Queen. He couldn't afford to be. But he knew that the instincts he fought, the ones that screamed for him to stake his claim, were the selfsame ones that would tear her already gutted Court apart. So he relented, and spent a great deal of time and a large number of marks in the search for information.

"What did you say the names were?" the gruff middle aged woman asked. She was a hardy woman, and well used. A whore; if not now, than for much of her life. She proclaimed to sell information.

"Cosette Deloncre and Blythe Ametrine." he supplied, his own voice low.

The woman thumbed through several journals, dirty with torn edges, and made a few contemplative noises.

"They survived Hayll's takeover. Cosette was a 'guest' of a puppet Queen's for some time, if I am correct. But there is no further word under that name in the last few years." she took a long drag off of the foul cigarette in her hand. Adan nearly choked on the smell.

"So you have nothing..."

"I didn't say that." the witch snapped. Adan clamped his mouth shut, and let her go on. "If one connects the dots somewhat, a Cosette appears on the radar again some months later, at a healing house near the border with Pruul. Same Jewels, same Caste." she took another drag, then with a jabbing motion put the cigarette out. "No mention of a Blythe with her then, or earlier." she added.

"Is she still there?"

"Far as I know." the woman replied mildly. She held out a hand, hardly subtle, and motioned towards it with her head. Adan sighed and produced a silver mark. She vanished it rapidly, grinning at him wickedly. He realized, belatedly, that it was a come hither look. He stood up, abrupt.

"I thank you,"

And he made a hasty retreat.

Adan was grateful to be free of the woman's shoddy house in the basement of some shop. To be very polite, the room had smelled like dust and urine, and Adan was thankful for the fresh evening air. He turned towards the street, knowing it would be a bit of a walk to catch one of the Winds from here. He didn't mind overmuch. He wanted time to clear his head and get that woman's scent off of him before returning to the home of his Queen. Nicole, despite it all, was innocent of the horrors of this place.

Dhemlan was destroyed. It was not even a festering wound, but one too far gone to save. A Healer would have known it needed to be severed, to save what of Terreille that could be saved. He avoided looking around as he walked, feeling colder than he had in some time.

He turned down an alley, still fairly well lit even at this hour. He was confident that he was untouchable. Few would be foolish enough to tangle with a Warlord Prince, especially one as... on edge as he was. The Red pendant he wore quite openly should be all the deterrent anyone else might need.

He paused long enough to adjust the cuff on his coat when he realized that something felt wrong.

Adan shifted his footing, even so slightly. He was being followed, he was sure of it now. He didn't turn around, that would be too obvious. He probed, gently, with the Red, and found a bubble of psychic power some yards behind him. Dark power, but he was darker.

He snapped a thought of the Red at the bubble and it popped. He turned at the same time, and the flash of icy gold eyes, a swirl of dark hair and cold, cold power was all the impression he had before he was dodging knives. Physical ones. He snapped a Red shield up in time to save himself, and turned back to find the figure of his attacker.

She, for he realized quickly that it was a witch, had thrown her full strength at him. He felt the snap of strength... Green, if he estimated correctly, and felt the rebound. It struck her. It was a careless mistake, but he doubted she had ever come face to face with someone who wore the darker Jewel.

He caught her arm and dragged her back to her feet. She snapped up her head and snarled, but he had her effectively pinned.

"Who are you?" he snapped. She bared her teeth. He realized, belatedly, that she was trying to wretch her head around and bite him. He yanked a hand away, and she broke his grip on the other before he could rebound. He moved to intercept her flight, but she wasn't trying to get away. She was trying to get under his guard.

He'd thrown up protective shields that had shattered under such harsh use. They had been hasty, and he was not a fighter by training. He hadn't expected such a slight girl would be a challenge, either. He recalculated his odds when the heel of her hand struck him in the nose. He saw stars, his eyes watered, and pain exploded behind them. He snarled, temper snapping the leash. He grabbed her, snapped Red shields up around them both rather firmly, and drew her up to look at him.

"I suggest you answer the question before I break you in half." It was a ruse. Without much better reason, he would never harm a witch. Even one so annoying as this one. But she seemed startled enough by the violence she'd drawn to the surface to rethink a more foolish course of action.

She still didn't answer. She opted to fight with words. "You asked about Cosette Deloncre... why?" she demanded. Adan narrowed his eyes and looked over this woman's face, but didn't see any trace of the Deloncre blood that might betray her. He had thought for a moment that this woman might be Cosette... she had been barely more than a child when he'd seen her last... but he doubted it.

"I am searching for her on behalf of my Queen."

The witch's eyes were cold... so cold. "And why does your Queen want her?" Adan reconsidered telling the witch something impolite. He sensed the spike of fear, and knew that though three years had passed... three years was not much time in the scope of the lives of the long lived. It would be much longer before the people trusted Queens once again.

Adan spoke softly, honestly. "My Queen is Nicole Deloncre... the Lady's sister."

The cold, snarling witch transformed. There was something... pain?... in her eyes. He couldn't quite tell, but it was gone before he could discern exactly what it was. She was skilled at hiding herself, in mind and body he would imagine.

"Nicole... Deloncre... has been dead for a very long time, sir. That is a cruel lie." she said, voice hoarse. Adan blinked, startled at her sudden grief, and released her. He studied her.

"You are not Cosette... who are you, Lady?" he asked softly.

She studied him, wary, with animal shyness. His nose still hurt, so he amended that thought... a violent animal. Like a tiger.

"Blythe Ametrine."


	4. Bring Out Your Dead

**4.1**

Nicole took breakfast private, habitually, unless her Steward thought it important for her to do otherwise. Because this morning was no different than any other, she nibbled on her meal over some bit of paperwork that Vincent had left for her, enjoying the last peace she was likely to experience today.

The Warlord Princes were coming to the estate today, for her to choose a Court. She was nervous, of course, but she knew she had to face them with calm and poise. Dhemlan had always been a place ruled by the aristo sensibilities of the upper echelon, with reason and calm dignity. Nicole knew this, and yet she found herself wishing futilely for some of the casual assurance that she found so comforting... a thing so natural to Kaeleer, especially since the formation (and subsequent dissolving) of the Dark Court.

A soft knock at the door and the new maid, Liliane, entered. Nicole smiled an encouragement and nodded. "Yes, Liliane?"

"Lady, Prince Adan requests a word. In his office." Liliane was still somewhat animal shy around the Queen, and she was a stickler for formal Protocol. Nicole was giving her some time to adjust before she introduced the more casual attitude she preferred in her home residence.

But the request unnerved Nicole. Adan had the same tendency towards formality when he was concerned about something, she'd always realized, but he knew as well as she did that the Warlord Princes were coming today. Everything else was being put on the back burner, so to speak, until the Court was formed and ranks were neatly arranged.

He hadn't been at dinner the night before. She'd questioned Vincent, who had been elusive. Was something wrong? Was Adan ill? She pushed to her feet and quickly dressed. She'd intended to spend a more leasurely time dressing, with a careful eye to color and presentation, but she simply pulled on a day gown and let her dark brown hair fall over her shoulders. It was a youthful look, and if she'd been thinking more, she'd have known it wasn't what she should have done. She was young enough, she didn't need to give an illusion of further youth.

She hurried to Adan's office. Even a concerned Queen knew better than to burst into his office without so much as a knock. So she did. The noise resounded, but served their purpose. Nicole felt the shields around the office shift and the door unlock beneath her hand. She turned the knob and entered.

She met his eyes across the room before she noticed that he was not alone.

"Adan..."

Movement alerted her to the other witch's presense long before she extended her senses to be alerted. Put on guard, Nicole's stance shifted. She didn't know this woman before her, and she didn't like having this surprise on a day she was already ill at ease. She turned back to Adan, a question in her eyes.

"Lady... may I have the pleasure of introducing our guest?" he asked. There was a high level of formality in his voice, and she wondered who this guest was. She turned to look back at her.

The witch had hard eyes, but there was a soft sheen to them... as if she was trying not to cry. She was a little older than Nicole, perhaps, but they were of a similar age. Her clothes were well patched and tended, but worn. It was apparent she had been living rough for the last few years, if not more.

"Lady Nicole Deloncre... please be reacquainted with Blythe Ametrine... your cousin."

Nicole's jaw fell open, and she was stunned. The other witch rose from the chair and hesitated. Nicole reached for her... and they were soon clinging to one another.

"Blythe? Truly?" she whispered. The other witch nodded, clinging tighter, before she stepped back enough to study Nicole's face.

"We all thought you were dead, Nicole... when the estate was burned..." she closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She turned back to Adan. "You weren't lying. I... thank you, Prince."

Adan nodded an acknowledgement, but looked to Nicole. "I hate to break up this reunion, but..."

Nicole closed her eyes and nodded. Blythe looked between them. "What is it?" she asked warily.

"I have asked the Warlord Princes interested in Court service to visit today... I intend to form my Court in a few hours." she explained swiftly. Blythe's eyes narrowed, thoughtful. Nicole studied that face, then the Green pendant hanging above the neckline of her blouse. Blythe had worn the Summer sky, her Birthright, when Nicole had seen her last.

"May I attend upon you, Lady?" she asked hoarsely. Nicole blinked, unsure.

"What are you asking, Blythe?" she countered.

Blythe steeled herself. Nicole could see the muscles tensing, the tension around her sharp gold eyes. "I want to serve in your Court." she said somewhat rapidly. "I realize... we've only just remet, and it might take you some time to trust me... but I've dreamed of this. None of us dared to believe you were really still alive, but..."

Nicole stared, uncomprehending. Blythe shifted, pulled away somewhat, and raised a hand. Underneath her ring finger appeared a snake's tooth. Nicole's eyes were wide and she took a step back, cautious. Blythe hadn't been a Black Widow... had she? Nicole looked at her cousin, confused.

"I was training before the attack... but my mother thought it best that no one knew. Not even your parents." she said softly. "With the way things were, we thought it would be better if the secret remained among as few as possible... I would have told you when you formed your Court." she said very softly. Nicole's eyes flicked to Adan, who shrugged gently. He knew better than to intrude. This was between the Ladies.

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out before she let the resigned smile slide over her face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. The summer you were so ill..." she trailed off. Blythe smiled sadly and nodded. The two shared a moment of bittersweet memory before Nicole touched Blythe's shoulder. "I would be glad to have you, cousin."

Blythe shifted, and something in her seemed to fit into place. Reaffirmed, she turned to face Adan as Nicole spoke.

"Prince, please ask Vincent to arrange for another suite to be opened for Lady Blythe in the same wing as my own. In the meantime," she turned to face her cousin. "You can have the other bedroom in my own suite." Blythe laughed gently. That room was traditionally the Consort's room, but Nicole had no formal Court, let alone no Consort.

"Aren't you going to be filling that position today, with the formation of your Court?" Blythe teased.

Nicole flushed, but it was the undercurrent of danger from Adan that startled both Ladies. Blythe glanced at Adan, but it was Nicole who acted. She linked arms with Blythe and excused them both.

**4.2**

Xavier shifted, uncomfortable. He was one of perhaps three dozen Warlord Princes who had shown up. Nearly all the males who had come to the original meeting were here. All were hungry for something... and what the Lady Deloncre had dangled in front of them was something that none of them could afford to discard offhand.

When she'd appeared at that meeting, he'd felt the razor sharp line drawn in his own soul, but he'd come despite that. He knew that many of the other men still looked to him for guidance, trusting his judgment. He'd been a firm supporter of the rebellion that had rocked Dhemlan to its knees , and now that they had a chance to rebuild, the mistrust between the classes was likely to destroy them entirely.

Lady Deloncre was aristo born, but there was something about her demeanor that did not immediately cause him to flinch away from her. He didn't entirely understand what that was, but he was willing to discover it.

The problem always had been that the aristos had let Hayll in when the common people had wanted to fight. Dhemlan had been awkwardly ruled for years before Hayll's influence threatened to tear them apart. The issues were not all caused by Hayll, but by an absentee ruler and assumptions that hurt everyone... Xavier was too young to remember those days clearly, however. He had always known the aristos to be the source of Hayll's poison.

But the Deloncre name was one that the rebels had held in infamy. Augustin Deloncre, Nicole's father, had been one of their greatest supporters.

The line, always there.

A hush settled over them as Lady Deloncre entered, flanked by those same four males that had accompanied her to the meeting a week earlier. Xavier judged they already served her, and had come with her back to Dhemlan. All had the look of the long lived, but most of them were strangely different. Distant cousins of the Dhemlanese in Terreille, perhaps. Strange.

The witch that accompanied the Lady to the head of the room blended into the background with practiced ease, but Xavier noticed her.

"Princes, I thank you for coming." Nicole's voice rolled over them, like cool water on a hot day. Some of the men actually sighed, and others turned away, repulsed. Xavier felt a punch to his gut, like red hot fingers of desire coursed through him. Repulsed by his own response, he forced himself to look away from her.

"As I had indicated, I intend to form a Court today. All of you have come, which indicates your interest in this Court. I thank you for that... and I hope that together we can help rebuild what we all have loved about Dhemlan."

Nicole glanced at the Warlord Prince at her side, the one who had addressed the others at the meeting a week ago. Her First Escort, if Xavier judged the body language correctly.

It had not been so long in Dhemlan that the people did not recognize or understand Blood Law and Protocol, but it had been long enough that the presense of a rich, dark, beautiful Queen was causing the men to become restless and unsure. Violence was a hairs breadth away from exploding, and the moment that the Queen's hand touched that of her Escort's, someone shoved into Xavier from the back. He stumbled forward, but caught himself, turning to stare at what had exploded as a conflict between two men. Warlord Princes, both, with dark enough Jewels to be dangerous to everyone in the room.

Xavier cast his eyes towards the head of the room, where the Queen stood, now directly flanked by her males, including the two dark Jeweled Warlord Princes on either side of her. Sapphire and Red. Their pendants were gleaming. But it was the light glittering in Lady Deloncre's eyes that was so fascinating.

Xavier turned back towards the fighting and waded in. These men respected him. He intended to use his influence to stop the fighting, and to save this chance that the Queen was giving them.

But she beat him to it.

"Princes, ATTEND."

And everything stopped. Most of the men in the room felt as if their leashes had been yanked. Those who did not stumbled backwards. Her Green Jewel shone, like a beacon, catching the eye of them all, and stole their attention.

Hungry eyes fixed on her.

Her face was a cool mask, backlit by those glorious gold eyes.

**4.3**

"Here. You look like you need it." Xavier was startled by the sound of another's voice, looking up from his solitude to find the other Sapphire Jeweled Warlord Prince standing over him. The day had been exhausting, and if there was anything stronger than water in that mug, Xavier was fairly sure that this Warlord Prince had been promoted to one of his favorite people alive. He accepted the mug thankfully, but he still probed the mug for anything out of the ordinary. Just beer. He drank deep, enjoying the taste of something stronger than water and better tasting than the horse piss that the inn in his home village served with a straight face. 

"You are Sebastian, right?" Xavier asked after a few moments, when he realized the other man didn't seem like he was leaving any time soon. 

"Yeah. I'm Nicole's Master of the Guard." Xavier tensed at the familiarity in that statement. It spoke volumes that this male would speak the Lady's name so casually, especially in front of someone that was essentially a stranger. Xavier wondered if he was the Lady's lover. As if he sensed the thought, the other man went on. "We're very old friends. I've known her since we were both youth." Ah, old friend. That wasn't how a lover would speak of his Queen. 

"I'm Xavier." The man should know that, but it seemed the right thing to say. "Thank you for this. It's been a long day." A long few days, few weeks, few months, few years. The list could go on and on. Being confirmed as a member of the Lady's First Circle had released a sort of tension that had been riding him hard since he'd first met her a week ago. It just made him tired now. 

Sebastian didn't say anything, just extended his mug and clicked it against Xavier's. "To the Lady." He drank, and Xavier followed suit. He wanted to ask questions. What was she like? What had he done, signing on to serve a Queen he barely knew? The war in his gut made him question his own judgement. They finished the mugs, and Sebastian took Xavier's back. 

"You've made a good decision, Prince. Lady Deloncre is young, but she has heart. She will restore Dhemlan to what it once was." Xavier couldn't help but hear the unspoken addition to that statement.

_Or die trying._

Sebastian left, and Xavier felt cold and distant. He finally fell asleep and dreamed about a deep, cold winter from which there was no spring.


	5. Into the Night

**5.1**

Sebastien closed the door to the Masters's office and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. The last week had been one of the most exhausting he'd ever experienced; he hadn't known it would be like this. Terreille was a broken place, and he had it on the authority of the new members of the Court that Dhemlan had been less effected than some places in the Realm. That frightened him. How bad was the rest of this Realm if this broken, torn place was one of the best off?

It was nothing like Kaeleer. Nothing at all. He had known that, cognitively, but he was still rocked to his core to see exactly what that meant. Just seeing how some of the new First Circle looked at Nicole unnerved him. Like they were hungry, but unsure of themselves. Like they wanted to consume her, and in the process be consumed. He had seen men kneel in service, some with an all consuming lifetime commitment, and they did not usually look at hungry as these men did.

Were there no Queens here? Vincent had said there weren't many, that the High Priestess of Hayll had made sure that she did not have any competition to worry about. Sebastien came from Halaway, originally. The village stood in the shadow of Sadiablo Hall, and had for longer than even his grandparents could remember. He was coming to realize that the safety of his village had made him sheltered to danger in a way he never would have guessed; in ways that were now a danger to his Queen.

Nicole was his Queen. He had felt that gut wrenching call to serve her when he'd first met her. She hadn't been ready to set up a Court, then, but after a rather enlightening conversation with Lady Sylvia, the Queen of Halaway, he'd realized that the formality of service was for paperwork, and that serving a Queen had little to do with wages and titles. He'd stood in her First Circle since she'd first formed her Court, and would until one or both of them died.

That seemed like an alarmingly real possibility in this place.

Eventually he realized that he wasn't in his own office, and opened his eyes. Vincent was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. The man had a sandwich and a glass of something to drink at his elbow. He'd obviously been taking a working lunch. Now he was staring at the Master of the Guard, wondering.

"Sorry," Sebastien mumbled. "I wanted your report on the new members, if it's ready." he added. He tried to cover his exhaustion by taking one of the chairs in front of the Steward's desk. If he was sitting down, he was less likely to fall down.

"I don't have anything written up yet," Vincent confessed. He produced a pad of paper and waved it at Sebastien. "At least nothing legible. If you don't mind an oral report, we can do that now. I have a few minutes." He pushed the meal aside, but Sebastien shook his head. The two had served Nicole together in Kaeleer. They need not stand on formality when they were alone.

"Oral is fine, but don't interrupt your lunch for me." The rest of the Court was probably eating in the small dining area off of the kitchen by now. Sebastien was hungry, but not hungry enough to face those men right now. There were too many tempers swirling right now, as they all tried to acclimate to one another. It was a comfort that Nicole and Blythe, the Ladies of the Court, opted for a private lunch in Nicole's suite. He didn't know what they talked about, but at least he knew the Queen was safely tucked away.

Vincent nodded to indicate he appreciated Sebastien's words, and began. They talked for awhile about assignments. Vincent made a few suggestions of the new men for a second in command for the Master of the Guard, and Sebastien added arms training onto the daily schedule. By the end of the men, he knew both men were feeling a bit steadier about the First Circle. They would need time to begin operating like a proper First Circle, but Vincent, at least, was confident that it would come, in time.

Sebastien was just leaving the office when he spotted a blur dart past, and it wasn't one of the Sceltie pups that tore around the manor making it hard to keep order. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a young boy. Furrowing a brow, he darted around a corner to find a boy... couldn't be much more than a toddler... running for his life towards the stairs. Sebastien's heart skipped a beat and he drove after the boy. His shoes, designed as training boots, skidded on the slick polished floors and he skated past the boy, snatching him out of harm's way, but only managing to slide and slam both knees into the wall just past the stairs.

He swore. The boy laughed. It was obviously great fun to him.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" Sebastien didn't look up at the voice at first. He was gritting his teeth. But the boy began to squirm, and he quickly became harder to hold onto than a handful of air. The boy managed to kick him in the thigh... not the balls, thank the Darkness... before he scampered towards the voice.

Sebastien stood, turned, and took a deep breath before he took in the sight of a pretty young woman (a maid?) who had knelt to scoop up the boy. She straightened, boy on her hip, and concern spread across her face.

"Uh, I'm fine." he replied finally. She walked towards him, somewhat shy, and guilt written on her face. He didn't like the look on her face, like she was afraid of him. Warlord Princes were a law to themselves, but he had never hurt a witch. And never, ever, a servant.

"I apologize, Prince," She curtsied neatly, head bowed. "And I thank you... Noah got away from me. He could have gotten hurt." She was beginning to ramble, and her voice was low and fast. She was frightened. He could sense it in her psychic scent. It pricked at him, jabbing him more than the stiff pain in his knees ever could. He gritted his teeth and caught her by her shoulders.

"Don't. There's no harm done." he managed. She looked up at him through thick lashes before she stepped back. She curtsied again and was gone before he could place her. Liliane, he finally decided. Nicole's new maid. He remembered now that the maid had a young son. Nicole was thrilled at the prospect of having children in the house, but seeing that little terror made Sebastien question it.

One thing that piqued his interest, though... how a light Jeweled hearth witch had an energetic young Warlord Prince for a son.

**5.2**

Blythe stared at the blank parchment. She'd been mulling over it for hours. Too many emotions whirled around in her head and she couldn't put them to paper. She wasn't a particularly eloquent person, despite her upbringing. Too much fear and urgency had shaped her life, making of her a weapon for another's hand. She was a well trained Black Widow and more of a warrior than a lady. She hadn't had the privilege of being the latter.

She had debated telling Nicole about her sister's fate, but Blythe was unnerved to do so. Blythe remember who Adan was after some time; his family name had jarred her. She wondered if either could truly understand the irony, the bitter humor. Blythe didn't appreciate it, but then again, it was a harsh reality for her.

Cosette was one of the "lucky" witches. She'd been forced into an "appropriate" marriage during Hayll's reign. She hadn't been much of a threat, being only a Purple Dusk Jeweled Healer. And after the She Bitch Dorothea was done, few in Hayll trusted Healers anymore.

Cosette had been married to the younger Alvero son, after the elder had been declared anathema and his name struck from the family records. Adan was that elder, but his younger brother, Casimiro, was the pride and joy of the family. Blythe had limited contact with her cousin as her husband's family had always been overbearing. The family matriarch had died some years ago in that witchstorm that had rocked Terreille to her knees, but both Casimiro and his sister had survived.

Blythe knew his sister well. She was a Black Widow, and had been expelled from her order for her off handed cruelty, her unmindful plotting. Bianca Alvero, who had been broken back to her Opal Jewel when the world fell apart. It hadn't been enough, Blythe thought, but few had heard much from either Alvero sibling since the witchstorm.

Now there was a third Alvero again. Blythe didn't know what to think, but Adan seemed trustworthy enough.

She touched pen to paper and let out a sigh. She would write, and somehow, she would get it to Cosette. Nicole was home. Her sister deserved to know it.

**5.3**

Nicole poured over the documents with her Steward, once more officially her Steward, glad for the pot of herbal tea they were sharing. Vincent was her Steward. Adan, her First Escort. Sebastien was her Master of the Guard. She had appointed no Consort, but had gathered the required thirteen males to form her First Circle. Later, she would search elsewhere for more.

"Prince Xavier seems promising." Vincent commented. Nicole nodded. She remembered him quite well. She'd recognized the others had deferred to him in many ways. "I'd name him an official Escort of the First Circle."

That would put him at her elbow, metaphorically speaking. She liked that. She smirked, and Vincent raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Blythe probably won't appreciate that. As Escort of the First Circle, any of the First Circle Ladies without Consorts of their own would become his responsibility." she laughed lightly to herself to think of Xavier and Blythe having to work together directly. If Blythe was anything like she used to be, and Nicole was coming to realize she was, then her cousin would give Xavier a run for his money. Poor boyo.

"He'll be a Sceltie with only one sheep." Vincent mused. The amusement in his voice probably wasn't fair, but Nicole didn't say anything. She merely smiled to herself. "You'll need to find a Court Healer at some point." It was not quite a continuation of the last thought, but Nicole didn't think the jump strange. But it did sober her.

"I know. I had hoped..." she sighed, glancing back up at Vincent. He was older, steadier, than most of her Court. He was almost like a surrogate father to her, in many ways. "I had hoped to appoint my sister, Cosette. I hadn't thought it would be this difficult to find her." She sounded somewhat lost, and certainly anxious. Vincent, bold Vincent, reached across the desk and took her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"It hasn't been long, and you have found your cousin. Do not fret, Lady. We'll find her." Nicole knew it was just empty reassurance, but she felt it anyway, and it washed away some of the tension in her. She offered a small smile.

"You're right, of course. Thank you, Prince."


	6. See Me in Shadow

**6.1**

Nicole's scream woke the house. Xavier felt the punch of temper burn through the exhaustion of the last few days, replacing it with a strange, razor edge clarity. He tore the door to his suite off of the hinges as he stepped into the hall. Other males were in the hall, moving towards the Queen's suite, an army riled.

The first through the door was not Xavier, but the Master of the Guard. Xavier stepped up behind the other male and the two scanned the room. They saw Nicole huddled next to the bed, hand clutched at her chest. Xavier spotted why, first. Her window was open, and a knife had been driven into the wooden sill.

"What happened?"

"A man, with a knife. I woke up and screamed, and he jumped out of the window." No doubt to use Craft to float gently to the ground. Xavier crossed to the window, Sebastien stepped around the bed, to study the half open door to the bathroom. It was Adan who helped Nicole to stand. The men exchanged glances; though they mistrusted one another, they had a common purpose. Xavier felt that as he grabbed the knife and yanked it out of the wood.

Someone had wanted to kill, or scare, their Queen. 

**6.2**

"I don't know how it is in Kaeleer, but the Lady isn't doing any of us any good by refusing to talk. We need to know what the attacker looked like, to find the bastard and bring him to justice!" One of the men, Adrien, snapped when it was just the newest recruits alone. Sebastian was doubling the guard, and the Steward had settled Lady Nicole and her kinswoman into his own suite for the rest of the night. The First Escort stalked the halls like a bloody fury, but it was all for naught if they couldn't figure out where the threat had come from. Xavier was as frustrated as any of the other men. Lady Nicole had been white as a sheet when they'd led her away. Like she'd seen a ghost. Weak. 

He couldn't afford to believe that his Queen, the Queen he'd chosen to serve, the Queen who could save Dhemlan if she could win over the people, was weak.

"You're a right fool." 

The voice was a woman's, but not the Queen's. The men looked up to see the slender fury of the Lady Blythe silhouetted at the door. One of the men bared his teeth to be addressed so. Xavier stood, to defend his men, as he'd begun to think of them, and stood opposite of her. 

"You have no right to be here. This is the men's private quarters." A place for men to be men. The Lady tossed a wild mane of dark hair and planted a hand on a slender hip. She looked around the room, taking in each man present. 

"If the men seek to undermine the Queen and her decisions, then perhaps they don't deserve privacy, but the traitor's noose." she snapped back. Her Green glittered on her breast, and he felt the challenge in it. She was aristo born, but her rough language, her accent, marked her as one of their own kind. He disliked being shamed by a witch who did not outrank him. He snarled, stepping towards her, but he found out very quickly why Lady Blythe Ametrine was still alive in such troubled times. He had a dagger pressed to his throat before he realized she'd moved. "The Lady doesn't need fools in her service." she snarled.

Perhaps someone better at Craft could have snapped a shield up around themselves with a blade pressed to their throat, but Xavier wasn't that accomplished. He looked down at her with a burning hatred in his eyes. "I am no fool." 

"Aren't you? Then perhaps you might wonder at the Lady's condition, rather than be hiding here, like cowards with their tails tucked?" She stepped aside and vanished the knives. "You have a great deal to learn about service, Prince. All of you do. If you dare." She snarled. She tossed her hair and turned to leave. Xavier gave chase, and met her in the hall, now alone.

"What do you know of service? You aren't male, you don't feel the call, don't have your leash being yanked by a Queen you hardly know!" Xavier spat out. Blythe paused and glanced over her shoulder. One round elegant shoulder, peeking out of the top of a blouse too wide at the neck. When she turned, she studied him with knowing eyes.

"You are a fool." she breathed. She stepped towards him and framed his face with her hands. Then their lips met in a crash of passion and pain and fear. When she pulled away, she breathed against his lips: "You know very little about me, Prince. Presumptions make you look like an ass." She slipped between his fingers like smoke, and left him standing alone in that hall, wondering what he'd done wrong. 

**6.3**

Adan was glad that the Scelties had finally fallen asleep. Nicole hadn't, he knew, though she lay curled away from him on the bed, arms around her belly. She was frightened. She had been frightened before, but never had she been so close to death. The others had finally left. He knew her signs well enough. She wouldn't talk to him until they were alone. He stood beside the bed on the far side from her, waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

Then he smelled blood. The sharp, strange, metallic scent. Not moon's blood; he'd grown accustomed to Nicole's since she was barely more than a child. No, this was blood from a wound. Fury rekindled in him. She'd been injured, and she'd hidden it from them. He came around the bed and looked at her. Her eyes were open, and she looked quite sad. He could see the pain in the lines around her eyes. How had she hidden it from him?

He remembered. Blythe had been the first there. Blythe had knelt by the Queen. She'd had only heartbeats, but she would have to be a very potent Black Widow to have survived so long with no one to protect her. 

"Blythe put a web on you." he snarled. Nicole nodded, not daring to look at him. He was livid as he forced her hands away from her side. A glancing blow, but still seeping blood. "Why, Lady?" 

Nicole swallowed hard. "I asked her to." she hissed as Adan called in one of those small first aid kits that most First Escorts and Consorts carried. Hardly battlefield quality, but usually designed as something more casually. He produced a cloth and peroxide, to clean it. She looked petulant when she caught a whiff of the peroxide. He had no room for pity as he peeled back the bed linens and her bedgown to clean it. Shallow, nothing to be concerned about, but it had been freely bleeding for too long. She'd lost more blood than he liked. "The Court isn't stable enough yet. The men would have turned on one another at the scent of blood." she murmured. She hissed in pain as he cleaned the wound. "The web hid the wound visually, and the scent of blood." She caught his hand, needing him to understand. "I couldn't risk it, Adan. This is too important." 

"Would you have trusted us if the wound had been more serious?" he asked when he'd finally slathered on a Healer's ointment and wrapped her side in gauze. She bit her lip, and he knew the answer. Her old Court would have reacted as they must, but the men here... they barely trusted her yet. She was a Queen, she was aristo born. He knew her reasonings. It still stung that she hadn't even trusted him.

He helped her into one of Vincent's shirts, as her bedgown was stained and torn. She was stiff, but by morning she would be on the mend. "Sleep now, Lady." he said fondly, pressing his lips to her temple. She smiled up at him, sleepily. He always suspected that there was something to aid in sleep in those ointments. Perhaps she was just that exhausted. "I will watch over you." 

"Thank you... Adan." she breathed his name, a promise, and she was asleep. He brushed dark hair back from her pale face. Foolish girl. Foolish Queen.

**6.4**

Sebastian was waiting for Adan when he stepped out of Vincent's suite, where he'd left Nicole quite asleep. The younger man had crossed his arms and was leaning against the opposite wall, and he looked concerned. Adan hadn't intended to tell anyone about Nicole's wound, but something in the set of the other man's shoulders told Adan that he already knew. Adan held up the nightgown, bloodied, and Sebastian nodded.

"As I thought." he worked his throat. "I don't like that she suddenly doesn't trust us." 

"Not us." Adan corrected. Sebastian shook his head. 

"Us, too. She needs a Court she can rely on, Adan, you know it as well as I do. If she can't tell us when she's hurt, or needs help, how can we protect her?" Sebastian was more than angry, he was hurt, and confused. He was still relatively young, and Nicole was the only Queen he'd ever served formally. 

"She was right not to." Sebastian was startled at that, but Adan held firm. "Some of the men who serve need time. They are good men, but a Queen's blood... it drives Warlord Princes to madness. Most of the Court is now Warlord Princes... I'm not sure we wouldn't have turned on one another if she'd been honest. Who would you have wanted to see approach your wounded Queen, Prince? Adrien? Xavier?" Sebastian's jaw worked at the thought, and he could see the question burning hard in the younger man. 

"We are her Court! Not them." Sebastian hissed. 

"No, Prince. We are all her Court. When we embrace that, and learn to work together instead of as two factions of men... we will have earned her trust once more." Adan said wisely, tiredly. He shook his head. "Think on that a time. Until then, we have a more pressing matter. Who, precisely, attacked our Queen?" The tone shifted between them. Sebastian was the Master of the Guard, this lapse in security fell squarely on his shoulders. He would be reprimanded later. For now, they needed to focus on stopping such a thing from happening again, and on finding out who wanted Nicole dead.

"I'll find out." Sebastian hissed with a certain fire to his tone.

**6.5**

Nicole chose to dress and appear for breakfast the next morning as if nothing had happened. She walked stiffly, and did nothing to hide the bandages. The men deserved to know, now, what had happened. Several men paled when they realized what they'd missed the night before. Adan calmly rose from his own seat, approached her, and escorted her to her little used seat at the head of the table. He prepared her a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes, toast, and a small bowl of oatmeal. Her eyes widened, but he wouldn't budge. "You need food to keep up your strength." was all he said before he settled back into his own meal. She would have glared, had he not then poured her a generous cup of coffee and slid sugar and cream containers towards her. She brightened at that. 

The men further down the table were murmuring. She'd made a stir. She ignored it, tucking into her breakfast and finding herself hungrier than she'd thought she was. She ate with gusto. 

When she looked up, she found herself being studied by Xavier, who looked betrayed, and miserable. She felt a pang at that. Was she being cruel? She set her fork aside, and rose, and every man at the table did as well. Startled, she looked around at them. "Excuse me, gentlemen." She inclined her head. She moved to leave, when the bell chimed. Someone was at the front door. Nicole tensed, and several of the men snarled. The house was still too tense for visitors. She swallowed hard, and gathered her dignity. 

"Please, don't trouble yourselves. Prince Vincent, would you mind seeing to the door?" They still hadn't hired a butler. Something they needed to remedy. "Prince Xavier, will you accompany me?" She inclined her head as the two she'd singled out jumped to their tasks, and the others regretfully settled in at the table. Adan didn't look at her as she left, but she suspected that was for the best. They stepped into the main hall. Nicole placed a hand on Xavier's arm, and the two hung back, out of view of the visitor, and Vincent stepped up without thought or care as to the visitor. He was one of the least visibly affected people she'd ever met; it made him an effective administrator. Vincent opened the door, and sunlight poured in. Nicole couldn't see the visitor, but she could certainly hear him. 

"Where is that slut?!" Nicole bristled at the language, and the volume, but Vincent was hardly bothered, and stared at the man with a bored expression on his face. 

"No one by that designation lives here. Kindly remove yourself from the premises." Vincent said pleasantly, and Nicole smirked at the tone. He was making fun of the man. 

The man snarled and shoved into the room, and Vincent finally betrayed a hint of his own annoyance. Nicole was surprised that they hadn't drawn more attention yet. Xavier shifted so to stand between her and their "guest", but he hadn't noticed either of them yet. Foolish man. "The slut took him, and I have it on good authority that she's hear! Where in she?!" Nicole took stock of him. Warlord Prince. She was fairly certain that was a Green Jewel hanging about his neck, and he absolutely wreaked of alcohol. She wrinkled her nose when she caught a whiff. He looked... he looked just like...

"Basile?" Xavier hissed. The man called Basile turned, and his face split into a malicious grin.

"Ah, brother. You'll help me, certainly. That slut took my boy, and is hiding him here." Basile grinned and stepped towards them. Xavier bared his teeth, and Nicole inhaled sharply. Brother? They were brothers? She felt a chill crawl down her spine. Xavier snapped a Sapphire shield around himself, and around her. 

"You aren't welcome here, Basile. See yourself out." Xavier said dangerously. "Or I'll do it for you."

Nicole reached out a hand to touch Xavier's back. The tone in the man's voice was icy and pained, and Nicole felt the part of her that was purely Queen wanting to wrap her arms around him until that pain receded. 

"Ah, what do we have here? My brother has a backbone, all of a sudden? Well, you fool, you have no grounds. A boy belongs to his father. The boy is MINE." Basile snarled. Xavier shook his head.

"Even if he is yours, Basile, he hasn't been acknowledged yet. He's not old enough for his Birthright." Nicole was confused. Xavier knew what was going on. "You've done enough to her. Leave now."

Nicole gathered her wits and stepped around Xavier, fully revealing herself. She wished, futilely, that she wasn't obviously injured now. She could see the way the newcomer's eyes took her in, and lingered there. A predator spotting already wounded prey. She swallowed around a ball of fear in her throat. "I believe I'd like to know what this is all about." 

But a noise from behind her startled Nicole. She heard a woman gasp, and a tray clatter to the ground. Nicole and Xavier both turned, and found the maid, Liliane, standing there, pale as a sheet, her hand clamped over her mouth. She didn't even stammer an apology, simply looked as if she would fall over. Nicole felt for her, and would have moved towards her had Vincent not beaten her there. He appeared beside the maid, a hand on each shoulder, supporting her and staring down Basile. 

"You dirty slut, you took my son from me!" Basile snapped and lunged for her. Several things happened in quick succession. Vincent shifted, putting himself between Liliane and her attacker. Basile contacted with Vincent, sending the Prince flying into a wall. Xavier tackled Basile to the ground. The two wrestled on the floor, while Liliane knelt beside Vincent. Nicole felt her heart torn in two, but when she stepped forward to try to stop the fighting, suddenly the room was filling up. Adan and Sebastian and others came to their rescue. The whole First Circle. Basile was restrained with Craft, and stuffed into a waiting room with a Red shield over it, that only Adan could break. 

"What precisely just happened?" Sebastian finally asked, once the front hall had cleared somewhat, and it was only Nicole, Liliane, Blythe, Adan, Xavier, himself, and Vincent pressed into a chair with a dusting towel held over the side of his face that was bleeding. Vincent explained, but Xavier was oddly silent.

Until prompted. "The man is my brother. My twin brother." He looked up, with great sorrow in his eyes, but it wasn't Nicole he looked at. It was Liliane. "I understand why you hid from me for awhile, Lady, I do, but I promise that I am nothing like my brother. His coming here had nothing to do with me. If you can ever believe me." Nicole looked between them, and then put a few pieces together.

"Xavier's brother is Noah's sire?" she asked. Liliane, white as a sheet and wringing her hands, could only nod. "The boy is young... if you wished to cut ties with the sire, that is your right. He has no claims on the boy." Nicole said firmly. Liliane dared to glance up, and the hope in her eyes hurt Nicole more than anything else. She felt very tired. She looked around. "Prince Basile will be questioned, and he will be punished for harming a man of my First Circle, and attempting to harm one of my own servants. But then he will be released, and warned never to return." She looked between her men, looking for a sign of consent. Each nodded that they understood. Vincent even dared smirk at it. 

Nicole cursed. She truly needed to hire a damned Healer. "Lady Liliane, would you see to it that the coach is brought around? Lady Blythe and Prince Xavier will accompany Vincent into town to the Healer there. Prince Sebastian will go with you." *And you will not leave her side until this filth has left the grounds.* she added mind to mind; the males at least Green or darker would have heard that remark, but none betrayed it in their expressions. "Prince Adan, you will accompany me to speak with this... _Prince_ Basile." 

A few nods. Each rose to do as she'd asked. Liliane hesitated, but Sebastian was gentle with her, and she could hardly tell him no. Blythe glanced at Nicole, and squeezed her cousin's hand on the way to Vincent's side, to help the man stand. 

"I'm not an invalid, Lady." he snapped, unkind in his pain. 

She bared her teeth in what was probably supposed to be a smile. It was more feral than friendly though. "Stupid male, take the help that's offered, especially when you need it." She slung his arm over her shoulders, and the look she gave Xavier dared him to protest. He didn't. The room emptied of all but Adan and Nicole.

"Are you strong enough for this right now, Lady?" he asked her as he offered her his hand. 

"I am as strong as I must be." she breathed.


	7. Purpose & Meaning

**7.1**

Vincent was more manageable of a patient once he was settled into the coach and they were on their way into the village near the estate. Blythe was glad for it, because if he hadn't setttled down, she would have given serious consideration to shanking some part of him that he might have preferred to keep. He was quiet and drowsy as they were rocked lightly by the coach; Xavier had opted to drive rather than tie up one of the servants from the estate, and he'd disappeared at the beginning of the journey, leaving her with their patient. Blythe wasn't one to stay settled, though. Finding Vincent nearly asleep, she rose and moved towards the driver's compartment, where she found Xavier staring pensively out the main viewport. She settled in the seat next to him and gave him a look.

"You may as well tell me what's troubling you. Vincent's going to be hard enough to wrangle without you getting all wishy-washy on me." Her words had the same biting sting to them that everything she said did, but she wasn't being malicious. She hoped he sensed that, at least on some level. He seemed to, when he didn't rise to the bait, and instead just glanced at her. He didn't respond right away, but his forehead creased and he huffed a sigh. "You can't be held responsible for your brother's actions." She snapped, trying to goad him into some kind of action. He didn't even respond at first, but glanced at her with some kind of smirk and shrugged.

"It may seem strange, but I'm not actually concerned about that. Basile is an ass, and he always has been. I'm not my brother's keeper." he said with a hint of wisdom that surprised her. She shifted and leaned back a bit. The obvious answer wasn't always the right one, she knew, but males were usually more one dimensional than this. She frowned, and when he glanced at her, it was clear that he was amused that he'd stumped her. The amusement, though brief, lit his eyes and made him seem younger than he usually acted. When the light faded, she felt a pang at its loss. "It's Lady Nicole." he began. He had a brief look, as if he didn't want to go on, so she leaned over and jabbed him in the ribs. He jumped and glared at her, but she shrugged and nodded for him to go on. "Will this Court ever function like it should? We should have known that she was in pain, that she'd come much closer to death than just a threat. That's our job, and we failed. If she dismissed us all, I wouldn't be surprised." He was miserable. 

Blythe hated distressed males. Witches had such a bad reputation for being overly emotional, but in Blythe's opinion, males were infinitely worse. She sighed and finger combed her hair out of her face. "She did what she thought best. She obviously has some kind of faith in you or she wouldn't be trying so damned hard." She said "you" but she thought "us". Was she truly any different than these untried and untrusted males? Nicole was her cousin, but they were worlds away from the little girls that had been keen trouble for their guardians as carefree youths. "Give the Queen some credit. She did what she thought was best. She didn't hide the attack from you, just that she got hurt. And it wasn't that bad, trust me, I checked on her before-" Before she'd gone to yell at him and the other males for being so stupid and male. Before that kiss that she still wasn't entirely sure about. It had been an impulse, and while she didn't regret it, precisely, it did frighten her. "Well, anyway. She's a Queen. She can't help but want to protect and heal everyone. And she knows that the Court doesn't entirely trust one another yet." She glanced over to her left, towards the compartment where the middle aged Prince even now drifted in and out of a dream. "There's too many wounds. Your men think of those that came with the Lady as soft. They think of you as dangerous. No one is entirely wrong, but no one is right either. Until you stop seeing them as the 'others' and start thinking of yourselves as being on the same side... well, how _can_ she trust you? Any of you?" She conveniently left her own name off of that list though she had her own doubts. 

Xavier didn't respond for a long moment. When he did, she could hear him trying very hard to sound reasonable. "Why do I want to throw myself at her feet? To give up myself to her judgements, good or bad? I've spent centuries looking out for myself, and my men... and now I want to give all of that up for her. I want to give her everything." he was vulnerable. She knew that a male like him would hate that more than anything else. She touched his arm.

"It's been too long since Dhemlan had a Queen worth her salt, Prince. She's your Queen. A long time ago, we would have all known how to deal with that in a way that wasn't terrifying. But trust your instincts. If she's even half the Queen she was when we were children, she's worth your time and your heart." Blythe breathed. She dared to reach over, to touch Xavier's face. He turned to her, leaning into that touch, eyes drifting closed. When they finally landed in the village, some small time later, there was a stronger measure of peace in Xavier's eyes, and a certain fire in Blythe's. Vincent, wisely, didn't ask. 

**7.2**

The streets of the village were oddly quieted, as if the people were in hiding. Xavier looked around, brow furrowed, wishing that even now the people didn't feel the need to hide. Three years wasn't much time at all. The Healer's hut was empty, deserted, and no one appeared to volunteer any information. Xavier was feeling somewhat desperate and very frustrated by the time they spotted a dark head of hair and a petite figure up ahead. He jogged ahead, leaving Vincent (who didn't look so good) with Blythe. He rounded the poor girl, and looked down at her. She was tiny!

"Lady, we're in desperate need of a Healer. Our friend has been bad hurt. Do you know where the village Healer has gone?"

The poor girl looked like she was going to bolt, or explode. She didn't answer at once, and took a careful step back to put more distance between them. A glance over her shoulder, and she must have realized that he wasn't alone. Xavier wanted to leave her alone, her terror was pounding at him, but he couldn't. She was a Healer. She turned, chewing her lip, and looked at the injured man. Something in her shifted. 

"I'm not trained." she said simply. "But I can show you how to find the Healer. I know where she hides." She bounced off, like a bunny bounding through the brush, and they were hard pressed to keep up. The girl was maybe a teenager, and she didn't really look Dhemlanese. Xavier pondered her and her presence here as he and Blythe struggled with Vincent to keep up. They came, eventually, to the Healer's hut, where the girl entered and called out. They'd just been here, Xavier thought, and found no one. He was beginning to get impatient when he heard, and sensed, someone else moving around in there. He blinked. 

"Well come in, the poor man looks pitiful." An aged Healer's voice. Xavier knew Healer vs. normal old woman; it was particularly frightening. They brought Vincent in, and sat him down. Blythe shifted, clearly uncomfortable, as the aged old witch looked them over. "What happened to him?" the witch snapped as she snapped her fingers. The girl bounded to a cupboard, as if she took commands only in the form of finger snaps and glares. The girl produced a bowl, some ointments, and some thread and a needle. The old woman was using Craft to boil water as she looked between them. 

"He was caught between an angry Warlord Prince and an innocent witch." Blythe replied bluntly. Idly, somewhere in his mind, Xavier wondered if Blythe felt like she was talking to her future self; no, probably not. Blythe wasn't a Healer. 

The Healer tutted and gave Xavier a glare. 

"Not me!" he managed to sputter. She harumphed and washed the area of blood. But she shook her head. 

"I'm going to have to stitch it, it's too deep to heal on its own before he loses too much blood. You, boy, make yourself useful. Hold him down." Xavier blinked at the orders and looked at Vincent. The older man was white around the edges, and he nodded. Xavier didn't like this, but he crossed to the Steward and laid him back, securing his shoulders. Vincent wasn't a strong as Xavier, a naturally more lithe and slender man. But there was still muscle in those shoulders. Vincent gave him an odd look, and then closed his eyes.

Blythe was a little green before the procedure was done. She swallowed back, hard, on the breakfast she'd regretted eating at least twice now, and finally stepped forward to push sodden bangs out of Vincent's face, when the Healer swore she was done. He'd blacked out twice during the procedure, but when she touched his forehead he looked up at her with pained, exhausted gold eyes. "Nothing for the pain?" Blythe asked coldly. Most Healers were cracks at best; Blythe didn't much like them. She could heal most of her own troubles, anyway. 

"He doesn't need it." The old Healer said coldly. "That'll be ten silver marks for the stitching, and another five if you want a restorative brew for what blood he's lost." Xavier felt his temper pique. Mercenary old bitch. The poor girl seemed even more skittish now. 

"No, we'll manage." Blythe hissed and called in a wallet. Her first quarter's wages were within. They had intended to start a tab here for the Court, but neither Xavier nor Blythe wanted to return. They would find another Healer. Blythe shoved the marks into the Healer's hands, and turned to Vincent. "Can you walk, Prince?" He inclined his head, though he seemed to loll a bit at the motion. Blythe helped him to stand, and the three left the hut in a huff. 

The girl followed them. 

"I can help!" she managed. The three turned, but she shrunk back. "I mean, I... I can brew a restorative brew. He does need one." she said and immediately shrank back into herself. 

Xavier gentled his expression. Blythe opened her mouth, no doubt to ask what this Healer's price was, but he stilled her before she spoke. "That would be greatly appreciated, Lady..." 

"Kelly Epson." The name sounded foreign on her tongue, and he suspected it wasn't her real name. Despite that, though, he smiled and motioned for her to join them.

"Lady Epson. We'll return to the estate, and you can have the use of Lady Deloncre's store rooms to work. Does that sound acceptable?" 

She swallowed, then nodded. He wondered how hard it was for her to agree to come with them.


	8. Dying Alive

**8.1**

Nicole had considered changing her clothes before she stepped into that impromptu holding chamber, but she didn't want to betray her discomfort. In the end, she waited until the hall was clear, until Vincent was on his way to a Healer, until Liliane was safely tucked away, before she turned to Adan and indicated that she was ready. She wasn't sure that she was, but she wasn't sure she would ever be. Adan had tried to convince her that this could be settled by the men; only a male of the Court had been injured, they could invoke some right that would keep her well away from all of this. But she knew better than to allow that. She was the Queen, she needed to use this as a display of her strength. 

Still, part of her wished that Sebastian could be with her as well. She leaned too much on him and Adan, she knew, but the part of her willing to be a little greedy admitted that she would have liked to do so once more. Adan released the Red shield surrounding the room and resettled separate Red shields around each of them. She was thankful for his strength. He escorted her into the room. The man, Basile, looked up from where it seemed he had been pacing, like a caged beast. Nicole kept her face as impassive as she could manage, but his ire beat against the very walls of the room, and she knew he was studying her as a predator might study its prey. 

"Prince." She said with a stiff formality. Adan said nothing, merely settled her in an armchair, and stood to her left, behind the chair. No one was going to forget that Adan was here. 

"You have no authority to hold me." Basile snapped. Nicole did not respond. "You aren't the Queen of this District or this Province, and you certainly aren't the Territory Queen. You have no authority to hold me or judge me. If you release me _immediately_ , then I may consider going in peace." Adan bristled at the implied threat, but Nicole felt the moment that she saw her opening.

"I am not a ruling Queen at all, you are correct. But you missed something very simple, Prince. This is my personal home. This is a legal Court. You came into my home, injured a member of my Court, and threatened one of my servants with bodily harm." She didn't bother to stand, because she didn't need her dimuitive height to try and impress this issue upon him. "I have the legal right to punish you for your actions here, according to Blood law." She saw the moment that his face paled, when he realized his error. "In the normal way of things, I would seek out two other Queens whose judgment was impartial, and have a Tribunal decide your fate. But I have been reliably informed that there isn't a Queen who rules in this Province at all. So in an emergency situation, I alone decide." She looked him up and down. He was shaking, slightly, but whether from rage or fear she wasn't sure. 

"This is my judgement. You will never again return here. Should I come to rule anything in Dhemlan, you will not be welcome in the area that I rule. You will never again harm or threaten a member of my Court or my household, upon pain of death. Am I making myself very clear, Prince Basile?" 

He said nothing, though. What could he say? He could explode, try to attack her, and she could see on his face that he considered it, but he wouldn't win. Her Jewels matched his, and Adan was several ranks darker. He wouldn't win, and he couldn't know what support she had just outside this room, waiting. It was a long time before he tilted his head up slightly, and looked down his nose at her.

"You'll regret this." A vague threat, but all there was. Adan gestured, and Basile stiffened.

"Prince Alvero will see you off of the premises." she explained, her tone mild and uninterested. 

He turned dark gold eyes on her, and she met his gaze, pace for pace. 

He eventually left, with Adan, and she felt herself exhale, relieved.

**8.2**

"I know you." Basile hadn't spoken until they were partway down the manor's drive. He didn't look at Adan, but his tone was odd. "You're the Alvero son that they all thought had died in the uprisings. Strange to see you're still alive." He finally turned to look at Adan, who felt strangely unnerved at the man's expression. "Your bitch of a Queen has made a mistake."

Adan's temper soared, and he fisted a hand in the man's collar. "You show respect. She's a Queen. And you greatly over-exaggerate your own importance." 

"Oh, I didn't mean with me. The mistake is in trusting you. The Alvero line is born of snakes and liars, and you're no better than the rest."

Adan released him, and Basile walked ahead. When they reached the main road, Basile walked in the direction of town, not bothering to stop and look back. Adan stood by the street, considering, for some time. His words had been strange, but not unheard of. Adan knew what his family was known for.

He was still standing by the road when the carriage dropped from the Winds and clattered down onto the road. It would roll on up the drive, to the main house. Adan flagged them down.

Blythe was the one who opened the door, and her expression settled some small panic into his belly. 

When he climbed in, he spotted a newcomer. Vincent was settled on the bench, and if he did not look alert, at least he didn't seem any worse for the wear. The new young woman was settled beside him, and if she was trying to make herself as small as possible, she was succeeding. He looked at Blythe, who just shrugged, and took off back towards the driver's compartment. Xavier must have already been up there. 

He looked at the girl who was now visibly shaking, trying not to look at him. Why was she so afraid? Blythe had been no help, so he settled onto a bench (the coach started moving again, and it was either settle in or risk tumbling over). 

The girl was a Healer. Had she been the one to patch Vincent up? He wouldn't know until he spoke. "Did you help our man? If so, I must thank you. I'm Adan, Lady." An informal introduction, but he couldn't imagine how a more formal one would go in this situation. 

"I didn't... but I'm going to brew something for him when we get to the manor." Her voice was very small. "A restorative brew. He'll be out of commission for a few days, even with that, but it'll help him get back on his feet faster." She seemed done talkign at that point, though, and she stared at the hands in her lap.

Small, and delicate hands. She was too pale to be Dhemlan. Was she a half breed? He might never know. It wasn't really his business. If she were willing to help Vincent, then he would be grateful for that, at least.

**8.3**

Sebastian escorted Liliane to where her son was (one of the younger maids had been keeping an eye on him), and the two of them retired to the sitting room in his own chambers to hunker in. Sebastian had asked for some tea, sandwiches, and something sweet to be delivered, but with the way Liliane was shaking, trying desperately to keep herself together so that she didn't frighten her son, he wondered if something a bit harder wasn't in order. Sebastian produced some "toys" for Noah to play with (a small wooden practice dagger and Sebastian's laundry bag as a target), that were keeping the little boy occupied, while his mother sat on the couch, face buried in her hands, shaking so bad that he worried she might pull a muscle. 

He called in a flask of scotch, lifted up her tea cup, and topped it off with the drink. He took her hand, and pressed the tea cup into it. She looked at him, half stunned, and then at the teacup.

"That's not tea." she said suspiciously.

"It's in a teacup." he countered, the grin that usually got him out trouble on his face. She looked at him for a long moment before she very gingerly sipped it. She was sputtering a moment later, and she even glared at him for a heartbeat before she hid the expression. He grinned at her, but in the next moment, he realized that she had shifted away from him. Realizing he was probably crowding her, he stood and moved away. 

She spoke up after a long moment of awkward silence. "I am very sorry for the trouble I've caused." her voice was very small. Sebastian frowned. 

"You didn't do anything. You can't be blamed for what that man did." His temper was piqued by her timid tone. If anything, she seemed to try to make herself smaller. He stepped up beside her, and took her chin in his hand, turning her face up to look at him. "He has no right to you or or your son." She was trembling, but she managed to turn her head to look at her son. Her throat worked. 

He wanted to ask her why she'd even slept with the man, but that wasn't any of his business. 

"I should get back to work. I have much to do today." She said, trying to move to stand.

"Lady Nicole gave me my orders. I'm to stay with you until that Prince is gone." And after. He'd understood what hadn't been said. She deflated, and he wondered for a moment what she had lived through that would make her this frightened of them all. She didn't trust him, he could tell that just by how she looked at him, the way she marked how he moved around the room out of the corner of her eye. 

He felt adrift in this place. His home village had been nothing like this. No servant there would ever have looked at him like this, like she expected him to punish her... or demand things of her. Is that what had happened with Basile? He settled in an armchair across the coffee table from her, giving her all of the space he could afford to. That gave him something else to focus on: Noah. The little boy had heartily destroyed his laundry, and was now waving the sword around like a triumphant warrior. Sebastian smiled, then laughed. Until Noah came towards him and brought that wooden dagger down right on top of his knee.

"Mother Night!" he snapped, curling in on himself, clutching his knee. His teeth gritted as pain blossomed up and down his leg. 

"Noah!" Liliane was afraid, already on her feet, flinging herself at her son. She scooped him up, the dagger fallen forgotten. Noah started crying, reaching for his toy, and Liliane was backing into a corner. Sebastian was between her and the door, and she was clearly frightened. Sebastian sensed that through his pain, looking up at her. It was hard to fight down on his own anger (mild, but still present) when her fear was scraping at his control. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. Darkness, please don't hurt him, he's just a little boy." she was begging, and his words hurt him more than the dagger had. He looked at them both, pain reflected in his eyes.

"I would never hurt a child." he said as mildly as he could manage. "Or a witch." he added, almost bitterly. "I have never offered you a threat or any ill will. I would never." he said with a hard, bitter tone. He was on his feet, even if he had a limp now. She shrunk back, but she looked terribly embarrassed and sad. He wanted to leave, but this was his room, and Nicole wouldn't take hurt feelings as an appropriate reason for leaving Liliane unattended right now. He ran a hand through his hair. 

"The bed is through there." A spike of fear. "Why don't you and Noah lay down and take a nap for awhile? I'll be in my office." The office was just off of the sitting room, just like his bedroom. He would sense anyone in his suite before they could get to Liliane. He didn't wait for her to respond, though, simply walked to his office and closed the door behind him. 

It would be almost an hour later when he'd come crawling back out of his office, cross to his bedroom door, and find that Liliane had taken him up on his suggestion. She and her son were curled into the center of his bed, on top of the coverlet, but under a small blanket that he was fairly sure had been laying on the back of the couch in the sitting room earlier. They were both sound asleep. Some of the tension in his shoulders started to fade, as he watched them, safe and peaceful.

Then something strange and powerful shot through him. He gritted his teeth as some part of him purred. _'Mine.'_

He retreated from the bedroom at that thought, shaken. 

**8.4**

Nicole is thankful for Blythe's directness, usually, but tonight she wished for a way to turn her cousin's mouth off. Dinner was a disaster. Most of her men aren't even there, avoiding the situation, or her, and Nicole feels displaced and afloat for letting it bother her. Vincent, at least, is simply upstairs sleeping. He'd had his meal earlier. She'd checked on him after he'd come back, and been glad to see that there was some of his light in his eyes; he'd even tried to crack a joke about his reflexes not being what they used to be. She'd kissed his cheek and left him to sleep. 

Adan was seated further down the table, but something was wrong that he wasn't telling her about. Sebastian hadn't shown up at all. Xavier had sent his apologies. Others come and have gone, thankful for the chance to escape early. She finally gave up and retreated to the gardens to be by herself for awhile. She was exhausted, but she knew she didn'tt want to sleep. She was afraid of what nightmares were waiting for her when she closed her eyes. 

Settled on the edge of a long dead fountain, she huddled into herself. Had coming back really been that much of a mistake? She wasn't so sure anymore.

"Lady Deloncre? You have a visitor." 

One of the footmen. She looked up, somewhat startled, and stood. A visitor, this late? More than odd, suspicious. Should she call for one of the men? But she realized quickly that the footman had already brought the visitor to her, a petite and slender figure obscured by a hooded cloak. Nicole's heart settled into her throat. The footman retreated.

"Lady Deloncre?" The voice was feminine, but Nicole wasn't comforted by it. 

"I am Nicole Deloncre." she confirmed, cautiously. 

The hood came down, and Nicole was almost looking into a mirror. Her mouth fell open.

"I had to be sure, but there's no denying it..." The visitor said. "You really are Nicole, aren't you?" Emotion clogged Nicole's mind, but she did not entirely register that there was none in the visitor's voice.

"Cosette?" Nicole ventured.

"Yes." she said. She tilted her head to the side, as if studying Nicole. Nicole reaches out a hand, wanting to touch her sister to make sure this was real. Cosette shied away. "Don't misunderstand. This isn't a social call." Cosette's tone is hard and dark and unhappy. Cruel, almost.

Nicole is stilled, shocked. "What?" 

"This is a warning." Cosette produced a knife, grabbed Nicole's arm, and slashed her wrist. Immediately Jeweled power flooded through her, healing the wound, even as blood dripped down her arm, off, onto the ground, staining the flagstones. The wound healed into a rough, puckered scar. Nicole yanked her arm away. "You should go back to Kaeleer before you are in real danger." 

Cosette turned and left. Nicole sank to the ground, more than light headed. Stunned. She was sobbing before she realized the dam had even broken. She clutched her now-healed arm to her chest.


	9. With Open Eyes

**9.1**

Kellie reappeared at the door to Nicole's bedroom, skittish and unobtrusive as usual, but she was immediately marked by the Triangle, Prince Xavier, and Lady Blythe. Though her instincts might have indicated to her that she should run, or at very least, hide, she had her duties as acting Healer to consider, and she took a deep breathe before speaking. Her voice might have shook, but her words were clear, and could easily be heard by all gathered. 

"The Queen is asleep. I couldn't do anything for her wrist, it had already been healed, but I gave her a calming tea so that she might sleep." she clasped her hands in front of her, marking each member of the Queen's innermost circle in turn. Prince Vincent should not have been up, but he'd relented enough to allow her to help him recline in the armchair, his head elevated by pillows. The bandages around his head and the slightly pale complexion of his skin were telltale signs that he was not his best, but she could see bright intelligence in his eyes. Prince Sebastian and Prince Xavier seemed to be rubbing up against one another's tempers; they kept shooting dark glances at the other, but the presence of Prince Adan quieted them both. Or, Kellie amended, perhaps it was the presence of Lady Blythe, who cast dark looks at both of the males before settling her bright gold eyes on Kellie.

"She'll be alright?" Blythe kept her tone neutral, but Kellie was too familiar with pain not to recognize it in the tone of another.

"She will have no lasting physical damage." Kellie said very carefully. She sensed the shift of the men's moods at that. No lasting physical damage was code among Healers. Kellie had repaired what was wrong with the Queen's body (strain, stress, distress, whatever one wanted to call it) but she couldn't fix what was wrong in the Queen's heart. Not even a Black Widow, who could walk the twisted paths of the mind, could do that. Not entirely. 

It was Adan, pained and wounded if his eyes were anything to go by, who stood. "Thank you, Lady. Would you like to go to your room now, to rest?" he asked. Kellie shied slightly, suddenly no longer a Healer, but a girl. 

"Yes... thank you." She murmured. Adan nodded, and gestured her ahead of him. 

"I'll take her to her room. When I get back, I'll take first watch." First watch. Yes, they would want to guard their Queen, now, even if not one of them could reach her now. Kellie approved of the sentiment. It made sense. She walked at the side of the Prince Adan, and kept her eyes downcast. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts anyway, which suited her; she wasn't particularly chatty by nature. When they came to the guest wing of the manor, he indicated a door. She had already been told where her room was, but she was glad to finally have the use of it. She thanked him once more, and stepped inside, closing the door, and quietly locking it behind her.

**9.2**

Adan couldn't stand sitting in the next room, once the others had been shooed away. He stepped into Nicole's bedchamber and took a chair near the bed. He watched the quiet rise and fall of her chest, rhythmic and soothing, though he found little about the situation soothing. There was no bandage on her wrist, and in the candlelight, he lifted her arm and studied it. The scar was puckered and white, where once there had been nothing but a dainty, thin wrist. His fingers ran over it, feeling for himself that it was no illusion. He thought of Cosette, the child he'd known once, and tried to reconcile that image with this scar. He couldn't do it, and felt hollow in the aftermath. He lifted Nicole's wrist and pressed his lips against the scar.

He settled in to wait. His hand was in hers, and even in sleep she curled her fingers around his hand. She was drugged, there would be no stirring for him, but he liked to think that she could sense his presence, and it brought her some comfort. There was strength in those fingers, but she was so fragile. He couldn't help but think it. She had been attacked, in her own home, twice. What a failing that was, for them all. How could they have let this happen?

Adan ran scenarios and thoughts through his head, but he couldn't explain it. He was too exhausted. Hours passed, him lost in his own special kind of turmoil. A brush of mind to mind contact alerted him that his watch had ended. Xavier had come to replace him. Adan stood and released Nicole's hand. He lingered, though, to brush dark hair away from her face, to press a kiss to her temple. 

She was precious to him. She always had been. She was his Queen.

He stepped out into the sitting area, where he found Xavier waiting. The younger man had settled onto the couch, and had a book spread across his lap. That surprised Adan, who hadn't marked Xavier as a man overly fond of reading. He readjusted his perception slightly, as he closed Nicole's door behind him. 

There was a shaky trust here. Xavier belonged to Nicole as surely as Adan did. They both knew that, understood that. Adan had the prior claim and the dominant strength, but Xavier's skills and strength, and his influence as a leader here, could not be ignored. They were both necessary for Nicole's well being, and her success here. So they would have to begin to trust. 

"She is still sleeping. Lady Epson's tea is stronger than I expected." Adan said, though they both knew the kind of hazy guilt that had settled over them all after they'd found Nicole in the garden. Adan had known returning to Dhemlan would be hard, but he didn't expect to find himself toeing the line of the killing edge with such frequency, and forcing himself to maintain his control so he could direct the tempers of the younger men all around him. 

Xavier nodded his assent and said nothing. Adan excused himself, and went back to his own quarters, in the same wing. Only when he was undressed and in his bed did he realize that sleep was an elusive mistress to him this night.

**9.3**

Vincent wasn't supposed to be up and around yet even three days later when he found himself sitting in his office poking through back logged correspondence. Nicole had recovered admirably well, physically, from her attacks, though she was still clearly unhappy. Vincent wouldn't have expected her to be aught else, and thought that her showing that she was unhappy rather than hiding it had been an excellent sign of her trust in them. Feeling all too optimistic on that note, he'd found the solace of his office comforting, even if he was already beginning to feel the beginnings of eye strain. 

He opened letters of well intention, invitations from what few prominent families remained in Dhemlan, bills from local shops. Nothing in specific caught his eye until he got to one in particular. The envelope was cream colored and expensive, and the writing was in gold foil. Too ostentatious for the state of the Territory.

He opened it. His throat caught. He stood up, invitation in hand, and felt himself turn a bit light headed. 

*Adan?* 

A mind he was well used to responded almost immediately. Adan and Vincent were of an age, and worked well together.

*Vincent? What's wrong?*

*I think we need to call a meeting of the Triangle. Something has come up.*

An hour later Vincent, Xavier, Adan, Sebastian, and a handful of others from the First Circle gathered down at the guard house (it was larger and had more room for them to meet). Vincent had the invitation in his hand, and he handed it to Xavier, who read it, paled, and passed it on.

_You are cordially invited to the home of Casimiro & Cosette Alvero on the occasion of the Birthright celebration of the Prince and Lady's eldest daughter, Mercedes._

"She's not going." Xavier said firmly. Adan raised an eyebrow. The boy had a lot to learn if he thought he had the authority to decide what the Queen could or could not do. 

"While I appreciate the sentiment, can she afford not to?" Vincent said quietly. Sebastian bristled.

"What is this? Cosette attacked Nicole! Then they invite her to this party?" He didn't have a head for subterfuge, and he hated this.

"Yes, we all know that. But it is not common knowledge. It cannot become common knowledge." No one wanted the backlash of it becoming public knowledge that they'd failed to protect their Queen in her own home. The assassins would become thick. "In the public eye, Nicole would simply be refusing to attend her niece's Birthright ceremony." 

An uncomfortable silence.

"What do they want?" Xavier asked. His eyes sought out Adan, who had avoided speaking thus far. "Casimiro is your brother, isn't he? What's his game?" 

"I haven't seen Casimiro in centuries." Adan said quietly. "I would hardly know him if I saw him in the street." 

Another silence.

"Who is going to tell Blythe?" No one volunteered.

**9.4**

Blythe was not in the habit of hiding, or keeping her thoughts to herself, but she couldn't help but feel responsible for the attack on Nicole. She'd informed Cosette that Nicole was back, after all; oh, of course Cosette would have found out anyway, but perhaps it would have turned out differently. Regardless, when Xavier (looking uncomfortably like a man who'd lost a bet) told her about the Birthright ceremony invitation, her blood had run cold. She didn't argue, though, when the men tried to convince her that it was for the best. She believed them. She even agreed with them. It was.

Blythe wanted to see Cosette, after all. 

Nicole had only paled slightly when they told her. It was set. The Court would be in attendance.

Well, Blythe amended, not the entire Court. Nicole would be there, with Adan as First Escort. Sebastian was her Master of the Guard, and of course attending. Blythe was also family, and the invitation extended to her. Xavier, as an escort of the Court, would be _her_ escort; she saw little reason to fight that assignment. Vincent had been released from his duties due to his injury, and Lady Epson would stay with Vincent, rather than attend. A few me to act as guards, but not more than two or three, so as not to appear like they were trying to be threatening. 

As if they were the threat.

Blythe dressed without much thought to the process, whichever gown came into her hand first from her closet. Nicole had taken her shopping shortly after the Court formed, both to pour some marks into the local shops, and also to outfit Blythe in a way that suited her new role as Lady of the First Circle. Blythe still had little patience for fashion, though she had to admit to liking several pairs of the shoes that she'd had purchased for her. 

She appeared in the front hall in a flurry of red satin skirt. She'd strapped knives to her thighs, just in case she couldn't get to the ones she could physically call in fast enough. 

Others arrived. Men in well tailored suits (a kink she didn't know she had), and then Nicole in a gray/gold gown that made her seem less pale and concerned. No one missed the gold bangle on her left wrist, hiding the scar to those who were not specifically looking for it.

Adan was the one who stepped forward, offering his arm. "Lady?" 

Nicole nodded, took his arm, and they turned to go. The others fell in line behind them.


End file.
